Sands of Time
by Skychaser
Summary: *ON PERMANENT HIATUS* PostSerenity After Miranda, the crew of Serenity never expected a return move by the Alliance, but when Inara is kidnapped, they must all come to terms with loosing what they care for the most, before time runs out.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: It ain't mine. Wish it were, but it ain't.  
Story: After the fight to spread the signal, the crew of Serenity assumes that the Alliance is done with them for a time. However, all falls apart when Inara is kidnapped and they must race to find out who took her and get her back before her clock runs out.  
Timeline: Post-Serenity (BDM)  
Spoilers: Any of the Series and Serenity (BDM)  
Author: Skychaser

A/N: Well, to tell the absolute truth, I'm planning for this to be a story with chapters, but this first little random thing is something I wrote and felt it applied, somewhat. It's more of a "stand alone" deal. Besides, it's one of my favorite little viggies that I've written (although I am slightly biased). I guess it kinda goes with the story line. Neways, right underneath that is the Prolouge to the story, but most of this is more indepth, Inara POV than anything else. The actual story with concentrate on Mal/Inara, both together and seperately. Enjoy!

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**A Prostitute's Love**

She stares up, at the ceiling, velvet and ruffled, her sin eking into her every pore. The black tendrils that deny no hand are gracefully wrapping themselves around her slender throat.

He'll be there, when she returns. Waiting. He'll be there, reliving her sin, ever watchful.

And she'll feel…

His eyes burning into her spine.

And she'll wish…

That his hand would be the last to touch her.

Forever.

And she wonders…

What is to be done with a prostitute's love?

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**

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**Chapter One:  
****Prologue**

_:leaving atmo, Boros in view from the window of Shuttle 1:_

Inara sits, the cold of space writhing its way into her bones, and she delicately grasps the tops of her arms, the perfectly manicured nails biting into the skin of her. She listened as the hiss of compressed air rushed past her, stirring her hair loosely. She knows that the entrance is sealed. She can leave now.

But she stays. The blue trace that outlines the planet of Boros vanishes silently. Not a muscle contracts to lift her from her slavery. A sudden, sharp twinge of pain causes her to flinch one delicate, chipped nail from her arm. She pulls back and stares vaguely at this disembodied foe. Blood. It runs down her arm, thick streams of tears she can never cry. For companions lost, for aching hearts, but most of all, for words she would never think to say.

So she stays. Aching. Frozen. Terrified.

Aching because he's left her empty.

Frozen because she longs to see him.

Terrified because she knows what she must do.

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It is a fanfiction sin to read without reviewing. 

Please tell what you think!


	2. Regrets

**Reviews:**  
1) **_Agent Rouka_** - Thank you so much for your wonderful compliments. You are the kind of reviewer that makes me exstatic to be a writer, in any form or fashion. I am very glad that you enjoyed the beginning, and I sincerely hope that the prologue will be much less confusing after you read the first chapter. Hopefully it will make more sense to everyone. I hope that this chapter is long enough to suit your fancy, but not long enough to wear you out, lol. Thank you for reviewing!  
2) **_Jacki _**- Thank you so much for reviewing, and yes, I hope that you will enjoy it. I truly enjoy writing, so when people can appreciate my artwork, it makes me burst with happiness! Lol!  
3) _**Dina C**_. - Here is the definition of eking, striaght from Webster:

**Eking (v) – 1. To supplement with great effort. Used with_ out:_ _eking out an income by working two jobs;_ 2. To get with great effort or strain. Used with_ out:_ ****_eking out a bare existence from farming in an arid area  
_  
**I truly hope that it has clarified somewhat my reasoning in using that specific word. I was attempting to evoke a feeling of pain almost, in how Inara could feel Mal's conviction drawing her sin from her pores, almost like a thick, black fluid, and bringing it to the top, the one place she can't handle it. Oh well, lol, maybe I just expect my readers to read way to far into it. I'm sorry if you didn't feel it "up to par" by your standards, but perhaps the first chapter will fly better. If not, please tell me what you could see improving, in more detail, preferably. Thank you for taking your time to review and read my story!  
**

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**Translations:  
**1) _gos se_ - "worthless junk/crap"  
2) _Ni tama de tianxia souyou de ren dou gaisi._ -"F$#> everyone in the universe to death."

**

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**Chapter Two:  
Regrets**

_"Every harlot was a virgin once." - William Blake_

_

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_

_:Leaving atmo, Boros in view behind _Serenity:

The stars…that's what he'd always loved about it.

Open air.

Breathing room.

_"Planet I'm from, couldn't see a one of 'em, pollution's so thick. Sometimes I think I entered flight school just to see what the hell everyone was talking about…"_

Mal stared ahead, his eyes focused, alert. He ran his fingertips across the unyielding metal of the console, the energy that consistently coursed through Serenity surging in through his skin and filling him with the same ache. It's usual. He knows it. She's here. Again.

He lifted his hand and began to effortlessly chart a course as the black of space expanded before his very eyes.

'SIZZLE' 

"Gaah!" Mal jumped skyward, a mixture of anger and rage shooting through his veins as sparks shot out from below the console and the ship bucked faintly. The nav panel, along with the engine readout, flashed and went blank while Mal flippantly brushed an assortment of switches in a menial attempt to right their ever-present predicament.

"What the – Kaylee!" A loud thud interrupted his vocal exhibition.

"Nice and tidy, Cap'n!"

Mal grinned slightly and swiveled to face front as the stomp of Kaylee's thick combat boots resounded from the cold metal grid lining the crew bunk passageway.

"How's about we try gettin' it right this time!" he called back as the echo grew fainter, a hint of jest fusing with the commanding nature of his tone. His crew. They understood 'im better 'n anyone in this empty hole of a 'verse.

Looking up intently as he waited for a go from Serenity (and her mechanic), Mal reached over and nudged the palm tree that stood to the left of the nav panel. Just…a little…there. Zoe'd be pleased. Wash'd be proud.

_Always fiddlin' with them gorram things… _

_

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Mal stood, expressionless, Zoe next to him, steely as ever._

'_Yeah…this is all very doable.' The voice resounded from underneath the control panel; it's gravely tone echoed along the walls of the helm, along with the sound of fidgeting wires. _

_Mal hid his satisfaction. He needed him a pilot, and this guy came with a list of recommendations longer 'n he could spit. And _that_ was pretty gorram far. The man laid out on his back underneath the hefty contraption slid out and lithely boosted himself from the ground. He stroked his thick, red moustache proudly while stepping his way behind the console. _

'_Shouldn't be a problem at all. A few modifications, get some real maneuverability out of this boat. You'd be surprised.'_

_Mal glanced at Zoe, her face deadpan. Never could read the woman. Not even in battle. They both began to back towards the helm door._

'_Might do, might do. Think I'm startin' to get a feel here.' Hoban Washburne slunk down into the pilot seat and wiggled a bit. His hand slid over the console as he arbitrarily measured the space for his figures. Nice area. _

_Mal turned to follow Zoe from the cockpit, obviously pleased. Now they could finally get this boat in the air… _

'_Good. Well, take your time. Make yourself to home. Just, uh, fiddle with the dials there. We'll be nearby.' _

_Mal backed out and turned to face Zoe as she paced down the passageway, blank as a dirt dusted prairie field. _

'_He's great, ain't he?' She didn't even turn._

'_I don't like him.'

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_

Mal jumped from his reverie to find his boat flickering back to life. The humming flow of Serenity's lifeblood coursed beneath his feet, releasing most of the tension that had somehow worked its way in between his shoulder blades. Of course, most of it never truly _left_. It just…dissipated for a spell. 'Till _she_ came back. Then it built inside him, like the splintered wood he had sliced through with his bare hands, and stacked, one by one, for their home…

"She misses you. She missed your voice."

The mellifluous vocals of River Tam drifted through the open helm door. Her tone was near to excited. Mal turned to watch her as she glided in and towards the copilot seat, the very motion of her limbs like water. First, he had found her slinking 'round on board rather creepifyin' and a bit more than odd; now it seemed as much a part of Serenity as everything else on the boat. Even that which was leavin' him…again.

"She's coming back. Soon."

"For once, you ain't right. She's already here." He paused for a second. "'Sides, I'm damn near to sure she ain't missed none of me." Mal turned to face the lit panel in front of him. "Can't miss what you never had."

River turned to face him, slowly pulling one knee to her chin followed by t'other, shaking her head, a knowing grin spreading across her face. Now _that_ he still found creepifyin'.

"They all miss you. But especially her. Still waiting. Always wanting."

Shivering, Mal turned to face her, but she was already turned around, staring at the controls, her fingers flying across the screens. The girl's periods of delirium had been few and far between, but it still seemed to Mal that she weren't always…there. Or maybe, as he had figured on occasion, she knew a hell of a lot more than she let on. Or they figured her t'know.

Choosing to brush the comment aside, Mal stood from his seat.

"Come to take your part in my crew?" River glanced over, eyes shining, and nodded. As with everything else, she had an affinity towards them controls, and he couldn't bear to find himself a new pilot. Wouldn't think it, not only four months after. 'Specially now, with Zoe pregnant 'n all.

"All right then. Chart us a course to Jiangyin. Supper's in twenty." Mal stepped through the passageway and clambered down the metal staircase just as Kaylee sprang through the kitchen door, her mind obviously on gettin' somewhere in a hurry.

"Nice wo—"

"Sorry Cap'n, no time t'chat!" Kaylee stopped and flashed him a quick grin as she hurriedly swung open the heavy metal door to her bunk. Mal's face twisted in confusion, then quickly relaxed as a comforting sound rose to greet him from within _Serenity_'s belly.

"Is everything all right…" Simon's voice drifted off as the heavy metal door slammed shut, encasing the two in a concrete nest of seclusion. Mal smirked and continued his journey towards the kitchen. Leastways somethin' good had come outta that whole gorram mess.

Stepping through the kitchen entry, he spotted Zoe at the oven. Zoe. Wash's warrior woman. Good god, who knew she had it in 'er? Four months pregnant, and somethin' womanly in Zoe had finally popped in t'place. Ever since Wash's death, she had pulled and pushed and righted herself, devoting her every waking moment to that ship, placing her soul inside of it, as if it represented the very endearment which had been snatched away.

Rather frightenin' for Mal, who recognized every symptom. She was him. Empty. Bitter. Pouring herself in t'somethin' she thought represented everything. Then she got the news from doc hisself. That had changed things, to be sure. This was a side of Zoe that no one had ever seen, 'ceptin that baby's daddy. Now can't nobody say she weren't still tough as nails, but somethin' nuturin' had developed, subtly. And now here she was. Cookin' meals for the crew.

"Smells good," Mal commented as he strolled by. Zoe glanced up and smiled. She did that more and more often now.

"Thank you, sir." Mal continued his pace, but was stopped by the sound of Zoe's voice behind him. "Have you talked to Inara since we left Boros? She's been lookin' for you." She stopped and hesitated. "I don't mean to push my place, sir, but—" Mal turned roughly.

"Then don't."

Zoe stared him in the eye. Yeah, that same spark still lived.

"You can't go avoidin' this forever." Mal smiled, pushing through the pain below.

"I ain't avoidin' it forever. Just the time bein'."

Turning back the way he came, Mal made his way to the cargo area. He wasn't really _tryin'_ to find her, but if he happened to…

"Mal."

That didn't take long. Mal plastered a smile across his face and turned on his heel.

"Well, Inara! How are things planet side? Business good? Me myself, I ain't stepped on land since—"

"Mal."

The smile disappeared.

"You can't avoid this forever."

"Avoid what?" The look was pure innocence, but after almost two years, Inara knew much more than what lay on the exterior. She sighed, feigning frustration.

"I have to leave, Mal. Four months…it's been a long time. I must return to Sihnon—"

"Must? Whoa, now, when did this become a must?"

"When two months passed since the first time I asked to return."

"'Nara." Inara stiffened slightly at his use of her shortened name. Coming from him, it felt more like a term of endearment, something she couldn't handle at the precise moment.

"Why now?" Mal placed one hand on the side of her arm, and she felt her resolve weaken, if ever so slightly. No. This time she could not lose.

"Because you seem so intent on keeping me on this piece of _gos se_ while I remain just as intent on getting _off_." Mal's face hardened into a solid mask as he removed his hand from her shoulder.

"_Gos se._" He nodded and slowly moved his hand to the back of his head. "_Ni tama de tianxia souyou de ren dou gaisi,_ 'Nara. Fine." Mal turned away from her and started down the stairwell. "Be sure to let River know we got ourselves a stop to make soon as we leave Jiangyin—"

"That won't be necessary," she intoned.

Mal halted in his tracks. Inara continued.

"I'll arrange for transportation to Sihnon once we reach Jiangyin."

"Fine. Supper's in ten." He continued down the grated stairs, his feet falling much more heavily than before.

Inara listened as the thick sound of wrath on metal faded. Placing one hand to her chest, and then raising it to her brow, she slowly made her way back to the shuttle. Her heart was throbbing, both from pain and adrenaline as she sat on her bed and took stock of herself.

Everything was there, every passion, all of her training…except…

It remained. Only now, it was hollowed out. The soulless sensation that for weeks had haunted her nights was deeper, more vacant than ever. A solemn tear dripped down her face. These tears were different. They were not the tears brought on by an onslaught of passion, diverged in the rage of a night spent in irrational jealousy. Loving, pale, and peaceful, they tormented her within their very existence.

She had assumed the barrenness within her person would disappear by removing the problem.

Now, that problem had lodged himself deeper in her than he would ever know.


	3. Dreams

**A/N** - Well, since they won't allow me to give reviews on the story anymore, I'm doing my best to send a reply to all of my reviewers by e-mail. If you leave me an e-mail address, that is...Okay, I'll keep this short. Sorry it's been so long since I posted, but finals have me swamped. This sequence is mainly just Mal/Inara fluff, telling how they got together in the first place, and I promise, it's not supposed to be completely clear yet, lol. This is three months before the start of my story, one month after the events of the BDM. I've already written most of the next chapter, b/c it was supposed to go with this one and it got just a bit too long, soo...neways, you get the idea. Enjoy!

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**Translations:  
**_1) Dong ma? - _Understand?  
_2) Dang rahn. - _Of course.**

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**Chapter Three:  
Dreams**

_"Better murder an infant in its cradle than nurse an unacted desire." – William Blake_

**_

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Three Months Ago _**

Mal heaved a grunt as his head hit the metal barricade behind him. Reaching back, he tenderly pressed his fingertips against his battered skull, measuring the intensity of the pain and hastily comparing it to the pleasure that radiated throughout his body from the sudden, cool brush of her lips against his.

Of course, the woman in front of him didn't give much time to contemplate.

Quickly, she pressed herself hard against him and wound her fingers through his hair, entangling them in the very thick of it and reaching deep down.

She stood on the tips of her toes and pulled his head farther towards her, wrenching his neck out of place while the very taste of her sent electricity racing down his spine.

"Gorramit, woman," Mal whispered as he pushed her away, his eyes flickering across her body. Her trained senses prowled every inch of him as she backed towards the opposite wall. She had lost all control. What happened?

"Mal, I - "

She paused. At barely a second's notice, every sense of restraint she'd ever possessed seemed to her a whisper on the wind, reaching out of her lungs and into the cold of space that penetrated outside of the shuttle as it orbited Beylix.

"What the hell do ya think you're doin'?"

_And how in hell did this happen?_ Mal mused as he ran his hand through his hair and allowed it to come to a final resting place on the side of his hip. All he'd come to do was rescue 'er. He'd known the plan. He'd known she'd be all alone and vulnerable-like. What he hadn't known is how she'd react once he got her outta that place.

"I don't…Nandi, she sa-…you….me….I….at the…" Inara sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest, an instant emotion of defense swelling through her after her moment of weak exposure.

"It's why I left, Mal."

Her eyes pleaded for understanding, for acceptance, for anything beyond the look of complete oblivious bewilderment that drew across his face.

"They been addlin' with your brainpan in there too, Inara? 'Cause you sure are startin' t'sound a bit River-ish to me my own self."

"No, Mal. I meant the first time I left _Serenity_…and the second."

At this Mal's head snapped up from rubbing his aching neck.

"Second?"

"Second."

A quizzical expression made its way across his face and Mal placed one foot in a step forward, suddenly very interested in what the raven-haired woman facing him had to say.

"What do ya mean 'second?"

"I wasn't kidnapped, Mal." She paused, debating within herself. "Well, at least not at first. I was leaving. Taking the shuttle to Sihnon. I…I couldn't handle…being around…" Inara reached up and delicately pressed two fingertips against her temples.

Mal was near to cocking his head in confusion. This was not a side of Inara many – if any – saw.

"You."

The word was whispered, barely audible over the throbbing core of energy that forced the cold, tiny shuttle into motion.

"Come again?" Mal stepped closer, wishing he could hear clear out his ear. Ever since good ol' Niska decided to remove it from its God-intended position, hearing hadn't quite been the same.

Inara's head snapped up as her eyes smoldered with what seemed to be faint frustration along with a glare of contempt that would freeze even Jayne to the floor. As if saying it once hadn't been hard enough.

"You."

With a sudden rush of emotion, Inara turned away and began to pace towards the helm, waving her hands frantically.

"You, Malcolm Reynolds! Oh gods, of all men…you!"

"Huh."

Lame, he knew, and rather foggy headed of him, but there weren't much else he could say. Two seconds later, the words that she spoke seemed to sink through his skull and into that part of the brain what contemplates. A surge of hope spread through to his fingertips, which, consequently, began to tingle rather annoyingly.

Mal's vision focused in on Inara as she stood, leaning rather pathetically against the co-pilot seat of the shuttle, her flawless composure and practiced posture ruined by the intensity of her emotional scars. Deep, unending; she was a vast pool to be delved and discovered. He knew that no man had ever searched the depths of that soul, and rightly figured that no man ever would. He had no idea that he was the one man she was willing to let.

Stealthily Mal moved from his position and paused not two inches behind her. Close enough to smell the perfume on her satin skin and to stir a stray hair with his breath. Far enough to allow his presence to go unnoticed.

Inara sobbed within herself, willing that every fragmented piece of her be put back together. But not by him. Before he could touch her. She wanted to be whole. A hand on the side of her arm turned her slowly to stare into deep blue eyes that held a passion she had never before seen there. Always before, they had been empty.

Happy, at times, with laugh lines that age had weathered into him and which Inara found despairingly striking. Sad, at times, with reminiscence of tears she knew no one else could see but her, the red rim still traced ever so slightly. Only, they were still empty. Now, however, they held something that caused his face to regress years.

An emotion she was sure that a younger Malcolm had held in abundance.

An emotion she was sure that a younger Malcolm had left in Serenity Valley.

Hope.

It was faint, weak, and would need nursing, but it still lit him. He spoke, ever so gently, as if she was a porcelain doll that would break should his voice resonate above a whisper.

"Me, 'Nara?"

His vibrato sank, low and gruff, and she knew he called for all honesty as he raised one hand to stroke the side of her face, his thumb tracing her jaw line.

"Yes, Mal. You."

Her voice held all honesty as she continued at a steady pace.

"When it was just me, I could handle it. When I was in love with you, and the feelings were not reciprocated, it was within my power to control them. But…then…with Nandi…she said things. Things that left me hoping."

A rueful chuckle escaped before she could stop it.

"Hope is not an emotion for a companion to carry. So I couldn't stay. Knowing that I was breaking your heart along with my own…I couldn't bear the pain. I had to get away. After Miranda, I thought…I truly thought that—that maybe things could change."

Inara attempted to pull herself from his arms, which had slowly snaked around her waist, but Mal just held tighter.

"Don't you run away from me. Never again, 'Nara," he whispered, his head dropping to meet hers. Once more, all of her senses were lost as with no other when his lips curled around hers. Passion personified, Inara aggressively pulled Mal closer, her nails beginning to dig into his skin.

Mal sucked in a quick gasp of pain as he jerked away. "None a'that funny stuff now." She looked up at him with a fierce intensity in her eyes that burned deeply. No more smoldering; the flames had been lit. She began to tear at him again with an animalistic rage when Mal pushed back and cradled her face. He shook his head.

"Nu-uh. Nope. We ain't the same no more 'Nara. I ain't comin' into this with the pain and hurt o' the past. We do this gentle-like, or we don't do it at all." Leaning down and pressing his lips softly against hers, he had no idea of how his words began the renewal of her soul.

"_Dong ma_?" he whispered, coming up for air.

"_Dang rahn_," she replied, once again pressing herself against him, grateful he was holding her; otherwise she feared would've collapsed long ago.

Gently, Mal lowered her to the floor, those blue oceans never letting go of her.

_He always was one to stare a challenge in the eye..._

_

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_**A/N** - Okay..seriously hoping I haven't confused/lost too many people, b/c it will get easier soon. I promise. And yes, Inara is going to be kidnapped for a "second" time. This (above) was the first. Dong ma? 

**Reviews are like pills and I'm a schizophrenic...I'll take what I can get, so keep 'em comin'!**


	4. Warnings

**A/N**: Hello all! Sorry for the long delay, but finals have been kicking my butt, and every time I went to write, my mother decided to confiscate my computer for on-line Christmas shopping…oh well. At least it's finally up! And it's purty dang long too (hopefully not too long…). But now I am on Christmas vacation, and so I should have more time than ever before…well, should. 

**To Agent Rouka** – Just for you, dear, I went back and rewrote that section we discussed, attempting to bring in some of your ideas and correct it a bit, while still keeping the flow of the story line and not screwing up the basic meaning. Hope it helped, lol.

**Thank you all for reading and please enjoy!**

**

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**Translations:  
**1)_ Liu koushui de biaozi he houzi de ben erzi – _Stupid son of a drooling whore and a monkey!  
2) _Houzi de pigu – _Monkey's butt  
3)_ Baobei_ - Sweetheart  
4) _Tzao gao_ – Crappy  
5) _Kewu de lao baojun… – _Horrible old tyrant…  
6) _Dong ma? – _Understand?

**

* * *

Places:  
Jiangyin** – Outer rim planet used mainly for cattle ranching and farming; located 3 weeks away from Persephone; the presence of the Alliance is slightly felt, but usually ignored by the people and the patrolmen  
**Paquin** – Border planet located about thirteen days in from Jiangyin, towards the core worlds; gathering place of performers and carnivals galore and home to one of the largest and most famous opera houses in the 'verse; artistic study for those who wish to become entertainers.  
**Siskiyou** – Main city on the northern hemisphere of Jiangyin  
**Modesto** – Second largest city on Jiangyin; about two hours south of Siskiyou; location of the only Alliance base on-planet**

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**

**Chapter Four:  
Warnings**

_"Behavior is what a man does, not what he thinks, feels, or believes."  
- Emily Dickinson_

**

* * *

_Present Day_**

Mal's eyes snapped open at the sound of a loud thud.

_Liu koushui de biaozi he houzi de ben erzi…_

Suddenly, a sharp pain began to sink in through the right side of his body. As consciousness returned, he realized that he was no longer where he rightly belonged. His head throbbed; his right arm ached, and he was, for some gorram reason, cold…

It took yet another thirty seconds for the irrefutable and ever attentive captain to realize that the thud he had heard…was him. Pushing himself up from the floor, Mal wiped the spit from the side of his face and ran a hand through his hair.

A violent buck sent him back on his face again.

"Wash!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

As soon as he had un-plastered his cheek from the grating, that is.

"We're just landin' Captain. Gorram, person'd think yer havin' a ruttin' fit."

Mal stood from the floor to one of the more unpleasant sights a person can see when waking and still keep down food that had been previously consumed.

"Anyone wakes to that likely will."

Jayne cocked his head to one side and took another spoon full of whatever whitish substance he happened to be consuming at the time. Mal wondered he hadn't noticed the bowl earlier.

"You sure been sleepin' a mighty long time down here." Jayne forced yet another bite of something – it looked suspiciously like the former crotch-y tastin' rice porridge made by Jayne hisself the night before – into his mouth. He then continued his sentence, pieces of rice and spittle flying from the open crevice.

"Whatcha been up to?"

Mal scowled as he pulled on his pants, leaving the overalls to dangle down the sides till he could find a shirt that didn't smell as if it – well, as if Jayne had gotten a hold of it.

"What business is it of yours?"

Mal would never mention the dream. The memory, more or less. It was why he had slept at all for the past three days during the ride to Jiangyin.

"What? Didn'tcha 'preciate me comin' down here ta help ya? I figured, with all that loud bangin' goin on, ya might need yerself a hand."

"And how did you mean to provide that hand, Jayne?"

"Well, I figure someone 'sides Kaylee on this boat's gotta be gettin' themselves some sexin', and the next likely character is you, seein' as how Zoë's all widowed and such—"

"Jayne!" Kaylee peaked her head down the hatchway into Mal's bunk.

"Gah!" Mal leapt from his place where he'd taken a seat on the bed and snatched a shirt off of the chair sitting next to him. Throwing it on, he glared at the gathering company.

"Kaylee! Can't a man get privacy no more? I'm standin' here, half nekkid—or wholly nekkid," Mal turned to glare at Jayne, "—seems like the whole gorram ship wants to come 'n visit."

Kaylee giggled as she continued her way into the bunk.

"Aw, shucks Cap'n, ain't like I never seen it before."

Mal turned his back as he finished slipping button into buttonhole, praying that she would stop there.

"Actually, y'know, Simon's got a lot more hair n' you. Sure is nice though, finally havin' someone notice ya. And to tell the truth, it ain't bad havin' somethin' 'tween a person's arms and legs when they start to feel a bit lonely out here in the black—"

"Kaylee, you can go right on ahead and add one more to that list of things _we can't know_!"

"Who's 'we'?"

Mal glanced over to find that Jayne had perked up quite a bit since the beginning of Kaylee's tale. He also swore that before this morning was over, he was bound to lose last night's rather indigestible meal.

_Heavin' in the corner seems a mite nice option right about now…_

The scratched sound of a throat being cleared turned the three occupants of the room towards the open hatchway.

"Good morning, sir. Just wanted to let everyone know we'll be landing on Jiangyin in about five minutes time."

Even pregnant, Zoë stood as if a pole had been hammered into her back, which made her slightly rounded stomach appear that much larger.

In an instant, the boat thrashed violently again, causing more than two pairs of hands to grab whatever they could in an attempt to remain upright.

"New compression coil and that grav modulator might a' come in real handy, Cap'n—two weeks ago."

Mal ignored Kaylee and addressed his first mate as he death gripped the chair in front of him.

"What in all hell does little River think she's doin' up there?"

"My guess, sir? Gettin' us down 'fore that rotten buffer panel breaks loose for the third set down in a row."

"Are we crashing again?" Simon spoke from his place upon the ladder. All heads turned as he stepped down, slipped past Zoë, and made his way towards Kaylee.

"Might wanna speak to your sister concernin' that one, Doc," Mal replied, looking up intently at the ceiling. "What's causin' all this ruckus anyhow?"

"Rain, sir," Zoë deadpanned, placing one hand against the metal ladder at her side and rubbing it gently. Her voice softened as her eyes drifted upwards.

"Strong storm hit just before we set to land."

It was the kind of weather her husband had loved, once. She had hated it. Couldn't do nothin' in the rain. But he'd shown her the up side to that bargain.

Strong arms that held tight and made her feel truly small, truly feminine, for the first time in her life. She'd never thought she would accept a feeling of outright authority from any man. Well, at least any man that wasn't her _houzi de pigu _father or her platoon sergeant. So, in that belief, Zoë Alleyne never planned on marriage.

Fortunately, a smitten young pilot had quickly changed her befuddled ideas on male dominance. 'Control' all sudden-like appeared as a relative as a word can be while still bein' a word. She had loved him, and he hadn't demanded anything of her. Neither did the rain. And she had come to love it, too. Now she loved it more. _For_ him.

The room quieted, a deep, incisive silence that left Zoë peaceful in her thoughts. The crew ran a common thread of their own.

Simon squeezed Kaylee's hand in his, praying for the day when they could be together, safely. And legally.

Mal watched his gesture and took note of the small silver band that had appeared on Kaylee's left ring finger, pausing to make a mental note to ask after that later.

Jayne dipped a head in respect while slowly lowering the bowl of undecided origin.

The crew's silent respect for the once pilot of Serenity touched Zoë immeasurably. They had all loved him, in their own way. Even Jayne.

"He's okay, you know. Happy, really. He loves his children. Says not to worry. And Zoë, his autumn flower." River paused, her head the only part visible as she hung in through the door and cocked her ear towards the ceiling. "Leaves on a branch as pebbles in the sea."

Bracing each hand on the side of the porthole, River elegantly flipped her body around and dropped to the floor, the weight of her barely seeming to sound on the metal grating. Jayne whistled low.

"Girl's got grace, I'll give 'er that much."

"She sa—I—thank you," River smiled shyly and blushed.

Simon blinked.

River and blushing were not two phenomenons a person usually saw combined. A small sob drew the small crowd's attention to the pregnant woman in the corner.

Zoë…crying? This was just a day for phenomenons, Simon gathered. With a croon, Kaylee detached herself from him and found her way to Zoë's side, placing one arm around her waist as the other hand stroked her hair.

"Hormones," Zoë murmured, clearing her throat. It was obvious to all that River's words had upset her.

"She didn't—I didn't mean to offend. Only trying to help. Delivered message, as requested."

"I know, River honey. I know. Thank you." Zoë lifted her head and smiled weakly at the young girl.

"I didn't finish, though."

The room seemed to still with anticipation and an anxiety beyond description. Zoë's hand shot out behind her to catch hold of what she could, physically bracing for an emotional blow.

River glided to Zoë's side and lifted her small lips to Zoë's ear. Kaylee stepped back to rejoin Simon, a somewhat frenetic look creeping into her eyes.

"He loves you and he's watching over his babies. But the rest isn't for you. And it's not from him."

River backed away and stood upright, her perfect posture and thin legs slowly carrying her closer to the mid-center of the room.

It was then that Kaylee tugged Simon's sleeve and stared up at him, eyes wide. He leaned in to her ear.

"What is it, _baobei_?"

"Is it just me, or does she keep sayin' babies? As in plural?" Simon shrugged as he stared at her. If so, that meant the prospect of…twins.

On the opposite side of the room, Mal shivered a bit. The look in River's eyes was causin' his stomach t' feel a mite bit queasier than before.

"If she leaves, she's not coming back. She's lost. Forever. Like leaves on a branch or pebbles in the sea. She'll be taken from you. Don't let her go, or trouble lies ahead. The other ones are waiting."

A suppressed silence snuck over the crew of _Serenity_ as River lithely stepped back towards Zoë.

Creepifyin' things like this didn't happen in real life. Well, not in Mal's bunk at the least. Finally Mal cleared his throat.

"Well, I don't know scarce nothin' bout no leaves or pebbles, but I do know that we got us a job to be done and a boat to be—" Mal stopped. "River," he questioned, looking towards the girl who instantly addressed him with large, innocent eyes. "Who _is_ flyin' my gorram boat?"

The girl River immediately rolled her eyes as a look that imparted all the stupidity in the 'verse flashed through her brown eyes and at their small family's patriarch.

"Is there any velocity felt beneath the soles of your feet, Captain?"

Mal blinked.

_Gorramit. How did every person in this _tzao gao_ room miss the fact that we were no longer movin'?_

"Well, in that case then, we got more to do than I previously thought of. Was gonna call a meetin' this mornin' in the common room, but since this seems to be the spot of the day, what needs to be said'll just be said here."

A collective release of breath at the business aspects of the day seemed to relieve the tension that had strenuously built since River's first little "announcement".

"Zoë, I need you to make out two rooms in the passenger quarters. We got a special request by Randolph Yates to pick up five crates of high coin and questionable belongings, along with a widowed friend of his and her daughter, to be transported to Paquin. We'll be meetin' them up at Modesto around four in the afternoon. That'll give us an hour and a half of free time t' kill, so I'll be parcilin' out the pay—"

Kaylee couldn't suppress a small squeal. Mal glanced in her direction, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothin' Captain, it's shiny. I just love meetin' new people is all."

Mal nodded.

"Secondly, Jayne n' Simon, I need both of you to load Inara's things on the mule. We'll all be escortin' her to Modesto this afternoon, and the shuttle she's tracked down is leavin' at precisely two thirty. Lil' River, that means I need you to keep _Serenity_ runnin' for me so we can leave Siskiyou and make our way to Modesto soon as Jayne and I close out the deal."

River nodded affirmation.

"Jayne, I need you to shine up Vera. You and me are goin' to deliver these unmentionables."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Mal ignored the sarcasm.

"Doc, you figure what you're gonna need and when we get to Paquin, we'll pick up some o' the more needed supplies. Kaylee, you keep that engine hot and try to play some more with that grav modulator." Kaylee croaked in protest as Mal held up a hand. "We _don't_ need a new one. Not yet anyways."

"_Kewu de lao baojun..."_

"_Dong ma?"_

Kaylee heaved a sigh at Mal's express command.

"Yeah Cap'n, I got it."

"Good. Now, could everyone please clear outta my bunk so I can get properly clothed?"

* * *

**A/N**: The information for the planets of Jiangyin and Paquin was taken from the Serenity RPG book. Modesto and Siskiyou I made up myself as cities on Jiangyin to be used for my own storytelling purposes. Look for **Chapter Four: Leaving** to be up soon as I can finish writing it! 

**Reviews are like the Christmas Spirit – Share the joy!**


	5. Leaving

**A/N**: Sorry this has been such a long time in coming. With Christmas, new classes, New Years, and a muse that decided to take a vacation due to a very unhealthy lack of reviews (tisk tisk, lol. That's okay, I do believe that I will be finishing this story either way, but reviews help the fingers type faster!), it's been difficult to get anything done. Okay, on to other things:  
This chapter is a little grittier towards the bottom, and there is some definite language, so if you are uncomfortable with words such as f--k and ba----d, then you might want to skip around…or just try to avoid it…Also, translations for the Mandarin are at the bottom, if you need them. They had a bit more profane verbage than usual, so I placed them down south.  
**Please enjoy!**

**Reviews are like pills and I'm a schizophrenic...please feed the habit.**

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Five:  
Leaving  
**_  
"I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it."  
__- Nicholas Cage, City of Angels_

* * *

"Whatcha thinkin' bout?" 

"Hmm?" Simon mumbled, the sound more of a groan from deep in his chest as he lay on his side.

"I mean it. What're ya thinkin' about? You just got quiet all sudden-like, so I was wonderin'. Whatcha thinkin' bout?"

Simon sighed as he wrapped one arm around Kaylee and interlaced his fingers with hers, softly rubbing her thumb with his forefinger. It had turned out to be his favorite time of day, laying here, everything quiet, Kaylee's small body tucked into every groove and curve of his. He found her smell intoxicating, and the feel of her body melding into his even more so.

Usually he filled the air between them with chatter. Today, though, he had been full of thought. And now she wanted to know. Should he tell her? _Could_ he tell her?

"I—it's nothing, baobei."

Kaylee frowned and began to remove herself from his embrace. Unwilling to let her leave, Simon weighed his arm on her a bit more, just sufficient to keep her on her side next to him, his chin resting above her head.

"Why won't you tell me Simon?"

Innocence. Her voice resonated innocence, and he could keep nothing from her. He began to fiddle with the small silver band he had given her just after they'd left Boros. She didn't know, but having that tiny thing engraved had cost him every last cent and been the hassle of a lifetime. But it was his promise to her. A sort of wedding ring, till they could make it all official. Legal.

"It's not that I don't want to tell you, Kaylee. I'm just not sure I can."

Kaylee shifted, her backbone curving and arching as her rear pressed into him, slowly but surely driving him insane. He could hear the smile in her voice as she answered.

"Try."

"I've just been thinking about us. How badly I want to make it permanent. Legal. And how it's been four months since Miranda with no trace of the Alliance. River's getting better, I'm feeling more secure, and—"

Kaylee abruptly pushed herself from his arms and turned to sit facing him, her auburn hair swinging around her shoulders.

"You're not thinkin' of leavin' _Serenity_? She's your home, Simon, more so now then she ever was."

Simon sat up and placed his hand over the one of hers that lay on the bed.

"Not leaving. Not yet, at least. But soon, maybe."

She looked almost aghast, her normally vibrant green eyes darkening. Sweet tears began to fill the corners of those magnificently shaped pools.

"You would leave me? Here?"

Simon felt as if he had been shot in the belly…again.

"No, of course not. I'd want you to come with me."

"Leave _Serenity_?"

"We could choose one of the border planets. A nice place to settle down. Not too out of the way, civilized enough for our children to have the necessary education, but someplace that needs a medical facility. I could help those people, Kaylee. And we could have a home. One of our own."

A glazed look had passed through Kaylee's eyes as the few tears that managed to form fell.

"Leave the Cap'n and Zoë? I don't—"

Simon began to rub her arm soothingly as he wiped the beads of water from her smooth and perfect cheeks. He knew it had been too much to bring up now. It probably wasn't the right time anyway. It'd only been four months, and one never knew what could happen from one minute to the other.

"It was just a thought, baobei." Simon's head dropped and he began to rub the back of his neck. He found the motion had become a soothing outlet for this nervous condition of his. "Of course we wouldn't be leaving in the very near future. Besides, it _has_ only been four months. The Alliance could have anything planned and—"

Kaylee pressed a finger to his lips and lifted his head to gaze into her eyes. Simon immediately noticed that the light he loved so much had returned to her eyes. It amazed him that she had become a shining pool for him to bathe in and leave all his fears and doubts behind.

"It is a nice thought though, for later." A sassy grin began to sneak across her lips, which breathed perfection. "Besides, I'm gettin' kinda attached to the idea of a whole passel 'a critters underfoot, lookin' like little you's and me's." She giggled and leaned over towards him, pulling right up to his mouth. To his surprise, she stopped a few inches away and exhaled gently against his lips.

"How's about we get started on them now?"

It was torture. Unable to stand her soft breath against his mouth any longer, Simon leaned forward and pressed her backwards on the bed, his hands moving to their usual position, tangled in those glorious auburn locks.

Unfortunately, on his way down he caught sight of the chrono sitting on Kaylee's shelf. 1:00. Mal and Jayne should be back within the next half-hour, and it was his job to prepare the infirmary for the inevitable array of knife wounds, bullet holes, acid burns, and whatever else they might find for themselves to 'play' in.

Inhaling her one last time, he regretfully detached himself from the warmth of Kaylee's embrace and pushed up off of the bed.

"Wha—Simon?"

"I'm sorry. Captain Reynolds should be back within the half hour," he stated, as if that explained everything.

Simon made his way to the ladder and turned, watching as she pouted. Her quavering chin quickly stopped his climb. He was no more willing to leave than she was to let him go. Suddenly her facade changed.

Kaylee beamed proudly up at him when he hesitated on the ladder to her bunk. She raised her hands and began to shoo him away.

"Well, get on with ya!"

Simon flashed a grin and then continued his succinct hustle up and out the door, his mind racing with uncontrollable hopes.

* * *

"Once. Just once. I'd like to have a promise from you, Jayne." 

"Whut's that?"

"That you won't pull your gorram gun outta your gorram holster whensoever the notion strikes ya!"

Jayne grimaced as he strode heavily onto the ramp that one minute prior had plunged into dusty ground. Zoë, who stood at the controls, tired not to snicker as Jayne limped on board, followed by a very perturbed Mal who happened to be bleeding profusely from an indistinguishable shoulder wound. Mal didn't pause as he reached into the pocket of his coat and tossed the large bag of coin towards Zoë.

"Split that even, Zoë. Do believe I'd be a mite fuzzy when it comes to the cipherin' as of now."

"Family's home?" River's voice echoed through the cargo bay and poised the question that would send them on to Modesto. It also did well to change Mal's aforementioned path towards the infirmary. Reaching the intercom, he picked it up with his good hand, which happened to be covered in red sticky mess, Zoë noted, and raised it to his tepid lips.

"Yeah, Lil' one. Take 'er up." He heaved a breath and glanced back at Zoë and the coin sack.

"Never did take to it much no how."

By the time the last sentence was phrased, the infirmary doors were quickly closing behind him and Zoë was tramping her way up the stairs as Kaylee pressed by on her way to the engine room, mutterin' somethin' that sounded incoherently indecent 'bout _everybody _needin' _her_ doctor.

* * *

_Been a_ _fool, been a clown  
Lost my way from up and down  
And I know, yes I know  
And I see in your eyes  
That you really weren't surprised at me at all  
Not at all  
And I know by your smile it's you._

* * *

Cleanly dressed and combed, Malcolm Reynolds pressed on towards the cargo bay. His shoulder ached incessantly. The bullet hole through Jayne's calf would make him nothin' but carry 'round for a week or so. 

Course, it hadn't been _for _Jayne, Mal wouldn't have this tidy little tear near the top of his chest neither. He stopped as his feet abruptly landed him at his final destination.

Three days. It had been three days since he had even spoken to her. It had been three days since she had torn what was left of his heart from his chest.

Of course, it hadn't been three days since he had _seen_ her.

_Serenity_ was not a large ship, no matter whether or not she was their home, and avoidin' people was just not somethin' that came along with her strong points. Not seein' 'Nara came with a high improbability, while not noticin' her was for him a sure impossibility.

Although he was fairly sure she hadn't caught sight a' him as of yet.

He had nearly stumbled upon her second tearful goodbye with Kaylee, ducking away from the door just in the nick of time. He had watched her at dinner, her elegance, her grace. Those hands. No man knew like he did what those dainty little paws could do. He had listened as she graced River with a special singular gift, to give Simon and Kaylee on the day of their marriage, on behalf of her.

Now it was his turn.

If he was nothin' else, Malcolm Reynolds was a man who lived up to (most) of his responsibilities. Them which he found admirable, leastways. And saying goodbye to Inara Serra was one of them admirable, captain-y things to do.

After all, he had to show her up at least once.

* * *

_Don't care for me, don't cry  
Let's say goodbye, adieu.  
It's time to say goodbye, I know that in time  
It will just fade away, it's time to say goodbye_

One more full. Once more, her life was packed away in stained rosemary wood encrusted with ivory.

_"Besides, why would I want to leave _Serenity_?"  
__"Can't think of a reason."_

Words, spoken so long ago. They were null and void now, of course, as Inara had found a very good reason to leave _Serenity_.

_I stand alone, and watch you fade away like clouds  
High up and in the sky  
I'm strong and so cold  
As I stand alone  
Goodbye, So long, Adieu._

The small chip recording sat and played in center of the room that had once more been enveloped in lavish luxury and was once more replete with barrenness. The soft tones echoed from faded speakers that barely played. It had been her mother's favorite song.

Or, at least, she assumed. Either way, the musical simplicity had been heard echoing down the halls to her sparse bedroom as a child, and the tune had been one of great comfort and melancholy throughout her adult years.

"_Do you _want_ to be like me? Go, or you'll never amount to anything, Inara Serra!"  
_"_Why? Why won't you give it up?"  
"Because you're nothing! Because _I'm_ nothing!"_

Two fingers snapped together in a most annoying manner - directly in front of her face.

"Yoo-hoo? Hey. Inara? You meditatin'? Should I come back later?"

Inara's eyes whipped open, the unbidden memories that had swarmed her scattering to the wind, faded ashes of her past. A scowl passed over the face that was perfection.

"A better question would be, 'should you come back at all'."

Mal played hurt as Inara turned and began to finish her packing, recklessly picking up pieces that belonged in the open trunk, her fingers shook for a reason that was not apparent to her.

_Control!_

"Well, now, I'd've thought you'd be glad to be gettin' off this here piece of _goushi_. Me bein' here only means that you'll be gettin' off all the sooner."

"Oh? And how do you account for that?"

"Well, I just came to let you know that we'll be landin' in Modesto in about fifteen minutes time."

"Thank you, Captain Reynolds. Please know that I do greatly appreciate your assistance in expanding my clientele, and that—" Inara turned to spot the blood seeping through the shoulder of his olive green shirt. Her calm was gone.

"Mal, you're hurt!" He glanced down as she rushed over.

"Huh? Oh, that, it's just—" He felt her warm hand as she pressed it gently against the wound to staunch the bleeding, then carefully undid the buttons with her other hand. Many prime remarks passed through Mal's head, but not a one escaped his mouth, simply for the reason that it was the first time in two months he had felt her touch or smelled her that close to him.

"The bandage has come undone. We can use gauze to hinder the blood flow until Simon can restitch the incision." Her arm stretched across the air to reach the red material draped over the nearest trunk when a hand on her wrist stopped the motion.

"'Nara. Don't go." Inara turned her head away as tears bunched in the corners of her eyes. Mal made no motion to move, except to lower both of their arms to their sides, his still clutching her wrist while his other arm sat against her hip.

"Mal, I—"

"You once asked me why I didn't ask you not to leave on us." His voice had lowered to a throaty whisper. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her jaw. She could hear the pain, the anger, the hurt and longing that resonated as he leaned closer into her atmosphere. "I couldn't tell you then. But I'm askin' you now. Don't go, 'Nara. Please. Don't go."

Inara jerked from Mal's hesitant embrace and paced towards the bed after throwing the gauze in his general direction. Mal pressed the red material underneath his shirt as he studied her retreating form. Her shoulders were slumped but the action was barely concealed; he knew she refused to show him weakness.

"I have to. You don't understand. But I do. I have to, Mal."

"Why? If you care so damn much about me and _Serenity_, then why go?"

"Because I don't care."

The words were whispered, barely loud enough for Mal to hear, but definitely loud enough for him to understand. He didn't speak, but the heavy steps that echoed on the grating were enough for Inara to know his response. Falling to her knees, she dissolved into tears, finally allowing herself a small moment of weakness and respite.

_Oh how I love you so,  
__Lost in those memories  
And now you've gone  
I feel the pain, feeling like a fool, Adieu_

* * *

_**Two Months Ago**_

Mal curled on his side and draped a hand over her sleeping form.Her red silk sheets rustled around his legs as he moved them. It seemed almost as if he were trying to get up, but he had no intention of doing anything near the like. Besides, the slow, deep breathing was a wonderful indicator that the vivacious Companion lying next to him was not awake.

"You aren't leaving me, are you?"

So maybe his senses weren't as keenly trained as they had been.

"Nah, course not. Ain't nothin' in the verse could pull me away from your side," he paused, then grinned.

"'Cept when you're snorin' so god awful loud. Or smackin'. Or keep kickin' me in the most unpleasant of places—" Inara turned over and landed a hand across the side of his head.

"Ow! Hey now, what was that for?"

"Companions do not _snore_. Or _smack_, for that matter."

"Sure they don't. Guess I'll have to get a capture in here one night when you're sleepin'."

"Malcolm Reynolds, you do that and I'll have to take your head off, then burn the only capture we have around this dingy old ship." Mal smiled as she scooted over and positioned herself in the crook of his arm, her hand lying gently across his bare chest.

As she closed her eyes, a small sound brushed past her lips, sending her warm breath swirling across Mal's skin. That small whisper sounded greatly like a sigh of contentment to Mal's ears. On another day, he would've teased to no end. But today was not another day.

"'Nara, we'll be landin' on Persephone this afternoon."

"Mmhmm."

"You gonna need time to set yourself up a client list?"

"Probably," she murmured. Mal frowned.

"I know we hadn't discussed it none, but I thought that maybe you'd be quittin' soon."

Inara eyes snapped open as she sat up and drew the silk sheets to her chest.

"Mal, I thought we had an understanding—"

"'Nara, I can't take this. I'm a pretty understandin' man, 'specially when it comes to business and money, but I ain't never _liked_ you whorin' yourself out. 'Sides, as much as I'm an understandin' man, I'm a jealous one, too." Inara shut her eyes in an attempt to stop herself from rolling them.

"Mal, I explained to you from the beginning, I can not just be yours alone. Not for now. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you—"

"The same way you care about them other houzi de pigu hundan that don't give a shit about nothin' cept you givin' them a good fuck!"

"Mal! I expect that from some men, but not you." Inara stood to her feet and Mal watched as the blood in her cheeks boiled. "The only hundan in this room right now is the one sitting in my bed! You have the gall—the audacity—to say something so degrading! I've seen you sword fight with a man for my honor, and at the same time you treat me just as shamefully as he did!"

At this Mal stood to his feet. If she thought _she_ was mad…

"You compare me to that sissy-ass cao—"

"I am not comparing, I'm stating!"

"I ain't nothin' like him 'Nara, and you know it! Or do you really just see me like all the rest of 'em!"

"No, you aren't like them, but you certainly are acting like them!"

"I may not respect what you do, but I sure as hell respect who you are, Inara Serra, and you know that every one of those shallow, cowardly little houzi only—"

"Oh, how mature, we've stooped to _name calling_ now!"

"—hire you because they only see you as a prize to be won, an accessory to wear on their fine arms."

"And you don't?"

"No!" Mal stopped to breathe. She was flushed and her chest was heaving under the silken robe. Her eyes were on fire, her fingers primed by her sides, and he knew she was waiting to spit back at any comment.

"Why don't you tell 'em no?"

He watched as she stood up straight and an emotional stream ran across her face.

Shock.

Sadness.

Loneliness.

Anger.

Hate.

Aggression.

"Because I ca—I won't. It's my job, Mal. It's the only thing I know. It's what sets me apart. It's in my blood. It's in my soul! Everyone in the galaxy—other than you—finds it to be a respectable position. I have freedom! I'm prosperous! It's who _I am_. Don't try to change _it_ or _me_—"

"It's not who you are." Mal stepped towards her, his face just as intense, his eyes burning with the cold blue flame that froze Inara's soul. "You know why? Because you aren't empty. And it makes you empty, 'Nara."

Inara seethed with anger. It overflowed her pores and radiated from her bones.

"If I'm empty Malcolm, it's because you've taken everything from me and not given anything back in return."

Mal shook his head and smiled, which just happened to infuriate her even more.

"Nah, you're lyin' to yourself. So I just wanna know the truth. Why? Why won't you give it up?"

"Because you're nothing! Because _I'm_ nothing!"

She yelled to his face, to the words that he spoke which she knew were true but would deny to her grave. She turned from his grasp and walked to the chair where his clothes sat waiting.

"You may be nothin' to every other man in that 'verse, 'Nara. But you ain't never been nothin' to me."

Inara threw the clothing in his direction.

"Get out," she whispered.

He complied.

* * *

_**Present Day**_

Not exactly the prettiest town on that particular spinnin' ball of dust, Modesto was at least one of the more advanced. Which, in retrospect, made Mal a mite bit twitchier than he would have been had they been picking up their unidentified cargo in a town that _didn't_ have the only Alliance base planet side.

But right now, it was time to get Inara _to_ that Alliance base, and that happened to be an event he was lookin' forward to with great anticipation. Not that he would've on a regular day, but the sooner he got that woman off of his ship and out of his hair, the better. Then he could think straight. Push the pain back where it belonged. With Serenity. With the face of every soldier, every wound, every hope, and every child that was murdered and left to die on that corroded stretch of grassland.

"Mal."

Her voice whispered from behind him, a taunting paradox that threatened to consume him. He didn't turn.

She knew he wouldn't.

_My love for you burns deep  
Inside me, so strong  
Embers of times we had  
And now here I stand lost in a memory  
I see your face and smile._

* * *

Kaylee watched through a tear blurred vision as she lifted her head upwards, the watery pearls sliding from the sides of her eyes and dripping in between the squares of the metal grating on _Serenity_'s cargo deck. Simon stood behind and to the side of her, one hand placed gently against the small of her back, the other grasping the railing of the air mule. Kaylee sniffled gently as she laid one small hand on top of the older woman's. 

"Promise you'll wave, kay 'Nara?"

Inara smiled gently at the girl who was near young enough to be her daughter. This separation was breaking more than just one heart. The only person she had to be appreciative of was Simon. His love for Kaylee would be more than a salve on the wound of loosing her closest friend.

"I'll wave you just as soon as I'm settled on the transport cruiser, I promise."

Pursing her lips, Kaylee nodded then smiled, her cheery composure once again shining through the pain. A defense mechanism to the last, Inara supposed they all needed their own. Just as Kaylee's was her cheerful temperament, Mal's seemed to be his stony silence.

As soon as the last trunk had landed in the seat next to her, Mal had stepped into the vehicle, grasped the helm, and not let go. Even when Jayne mouthed off, his simply frozen façade did not change, but for a small muscle in his jaw that twitched every now and again. It was a side of him Inara had never seen.

"_The war's over Mal."  
_"_You tellin' me that cause you think I don't know?"  
"I've just seen so many sides of you, I want to make sure I know who I'm dealing with."  
_"_I start fightin' a war, I guarantee, you'll see somethin' new."  
_  
The words rang in her head as the engine of the mule shrilled to push them farther down the dusty path.

**

* * *

**

**Translations:  
**1) _Goushi_- crap  
2) _Baobei_ – Sweetheart  
3) _Houzi de pigu_ – Monkey's butt  
4) _Hundan_ – Bastard  
5) _Cao_ – Fuck  
6) _Feiwu_ - Junk  
7) _Houzi_ - Monkies 

**

* * *

**

**Song:  
**"Adieu"  
Lyrics by Yoko Kanno  
Performed by Emily Bindiger  
CD – _Cowboy Bebop: Blue  
_Copyright 1999

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Hope you enjoyed it! I'm now in the VHS class at my school, which does not start for three weeks, so I have four hours of free time a day to write. That should be plenty of time, so I will update ASAP. Thank you so much for reading, and please review! 


	6. Fallen Apart

**Disclaimers:** Same as always...you know where to find 'em.

**Author's Note**: Okay, I'm pretty sure that you guys probably hate me by now...it just took me a while to figure out a new story line while having to go back and rewrite a bunch of stuff, so that Marilyn went bye-bye (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, disregard that statement).Well, since it has definately been long enough, all I'm gonna say is so sorry for being gone, and that I really hope you enjoy this next chapter. I always write it for you guys! And those of you who come back...Thank you tons for being so patient with me...I'll be attempting to update more often. Swears. Just...drama gets in the way. A lot, lol. (Dodges fruit and hard metal objects being thrown at head) Okay! Fine, I'll let you read...sheesh... (lol, jk!)**

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Chapter Six:  
Fallen Apart

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A decaying breeze blew gently past, stirring the black strand of hair that hung over her eyelid. It twisted and tangled, a rampant plaything for the wind as it turned in on itself and then back out again. 

She remained still, too lost in thought to make the insignificant motion of removal or even notice the disturbance.

Mal resisted the urge to remove the intrusive object for as long as he dared.

Lifting a heavy palm, he slapped quickly at the offensive hair and brought it back to its previous position beside his holster. He hadn't meant it to be anything. The gorram hair was just botherin' him.

At his motion, Inara snapped from her reverie and slid a sideways glance in his direction. Maybe now…he _had_ touched her…

She looked towards the burly merc who was engrossed in the palm of his own hand…_oh, dear Buddha…_

"Jayne, I believe those men over there could use your help."

"Huh? Which ones? I don't see no—" Inara glared slightly in his direction. _Oaf…_

"The ones struggling. With the crate." Pause. "Full of liquor."

Jayne's eyes lit in surprise and pleasure.

"Hey, 'Nara, I think yer right. Good call." He turned, his eyes lighting on his employer. "Uh, Mal…this won't take long."

"Try not to get yourself shot – again."

Jayne ignored Mal as he spun his hat around his head and swaggered over to offer a bit of friendly "help".

"I'm truly sorry our arrangement had to end."

Her soft, cherubic voice drifted lazily on the stale heat of the day.

"Nothin' lasts forever." Mal stared at sky, his hands propped on his holster, unwilling to entreat her with a look. Inara sighed lightly and tried again.

"Mal, I don't wish for our acquaintance to be broken in this way." He grunted, the noise a breath from his lips as he turned his sight from her. He hadn't the strength or the will to look in her direction. A soft pressure laid itself against his arm.

Surprised, he set a steely glare in his eye and swiveled to face her. The look said all. Inara pressed her lips into a thin, firm line and stepped two paces to the right. He continued to stare. Unnerved by his gaze, she glanced away and back again as a small sigh of discontent and anger managed to gasp its way past her mouth's firm hold.

"The least you could do is make an attempt at being civil."

"This _is _civil."

"No, Mal." Her voice echoed with the same ironclad anger. "It isn't."

Mal narrowed his gaze and pasted a small grin of frustration on his face, the combination becoming almost sinister. Inara had never seen that particular look on…well, on anyone. Quickly he covered the four-foot distance that separated them and grasped her by the top of her arm, sedately steering the bewildered companion into the small train station and directly towards a corner draped dimly in shadow.

Sliding his hold downwards to clutch at her wrist, he watched as she pressed gently into the woodwork, her eyes going wide and her breath coming in soft spurts from between those two soft petals. His tight grasp allowed him to feel the adrenaline that rushed through her veins as her heart raced along a well-known track. He wondered briefly if it sped up for fear…or by his touch.

Casting those thoughts to the side, he loosened his grasp and watched as the small line of her lips widened till they parted slowly. He whispered without a sound, hopeless defeat etched into every word.

"You're leavin'. I've asked you not to, and you threw those words back to my face," he hissed, not realizing that as he spoke, his body leaned closer into hers. "Now, I'm lettin' you go your way as peaceable-like as is possible for me. But losin' you now 'Nara—it ain't easy—"

"Mal—"

"No. You made your decision and I spoke my piece." A satirical grin touched his features. "Hell, you're probably just wonderin' why I ain't said goodbye." Releasing his grasp, Mal stepped back and fixed her with a look that caused her stomach to coil tightly.

"You ever thought…that maybe…I can't?"

Inara's mouth creaked open, but her thoughts were not the kind that should be left to air.

"Mal!"

Jayne's howl grew louder as he made his way through the entrance to the station and swung his body around behind the wall next to the door.

"Good gorram, I only wanted one bottle!" The shattering of glass against the door pane was not the kindest of answers. He leaned past the splintering wood. "That there's a waste a' good liquor!" More shattering, followed by a smart gunshot that whizzed a few inches past Jayne's ear and buried itself into the boards of the ticket desk was their reply.

Jayne turned to face his Captain.

"Ya know, I don't think folk here're all that friendly."

Mal grinned.

"I wouldn't say that. They certainly seem to have taken a likin' to you."

"Yeah, well, I say we clear outta here 'fore this party gets any livelier." Jayne grimaced as he pulled the pistol from its holster and prepared to fire off a few "warning" shots of his own. Of course, his warnings weren't near so nice as theirs were.

Mal tossed a quick glance at Inara, still holed up in the corner, hands pressed firmly against the wall. Her fingertips bit into the wood, pinpricks of red fear and fury appearing over the caramel skin, eyelids half lowered in dread.

Mal paced to the opposite side of the doorway and quickly drew his own revolver, sending off a few haphazard shots as he surveyed the situation.

Inara's eyes snapped open at a high-pitched trill that sounded from beside her. She watched men and women scatter to the sides of the gunfight, children encased in their parents' protective embrace.

_Dear Buddha…the children!_ Concern overtook her emotional control as she pressed herself from the planks with a small grunt of exertion and sprinted towards him, her back arched low.

"Mal, you have to stop this now."

Jumping back in surprise, Mal jammed his skull into the slowly splintering wall and fixed a glare upon the calm companion who had crept from her immobile position to kneel beside him. He could see the rage building in her gaze.

Fine. They didn't need to be waitin' round for government men no how. The sooner they were gone, the better off everyone'd be.

Glancing around, Mal searched for a quick exit. Off center from the door he spotted a small window that was just large enough to allow for back exit. Of course, an easier solution could come by throwing the stolen goods into the fray as a peace offering of sorts.

Or he could throw Jayne.

Remorsefully deciding against that particular course of action, Mal yelled towards the mercenary. He jerked his head in the direction of their escape route and glanced back out towards the four men who sat behind three large crates, each box rivaling the height of one of the men.

Jayne gripped the bottle of whiskey—core made and bottled—tightly in his hand, tipping it back over the open cavern of his mouth and allowing the golden-grained liquid to burn and slide down his throat. He nearly sighed in pleasure; ten other bottles clanked together, stuffed into a satchel at his side. The same as contained multiple firearms. Maybe not the safest place for alcohol…but safety wasn't exactly his highest consideration at the moment.

_Bet I can end this quicker n' he can_, Jayne mused.

Reaching into the bag, he pulled a grenade and reached for the pin.

In an instant the hardware was ripped from his grasp by a clearly incensed Companion who then hurriedly shoved the big ape in the direction of the window while yelling obscenities at the top of her well-trained lungs.

Grumbling, Jayne lifted his pistol and shot out the glass, throwing the satchel through—gently—then leaping after.

Mal flinched as a smooth, rigid substance was jammed into his hand. Looking upwards, he was greeted with two doe brown spheres, a frosty composure forcibly written into each, sending chills down his spine. Lifting one side of his mouth in a cock-eyed grin, he nudged her towards the rest of the hidden crowd and stood to his feet, snatching up the grenade that lay on the ground in one smooth motion.

Mal knocked the thin neck of the bottle off on the doorjamb, shoved the grenade into the glass, sucked in a deep breath, and lifted the empty glass bottle Jayne had left behind. The grenade had given him an idea.

Stepping back two paces, he sent the bottle flying towards the four men and lifted his pistol.

The clear bottle flew, arching high into the air before it exploded into hundreds of small shards – directly above the crates. All four men dove for the ground as glass shrapnel dug into their skin, the rough edges searching for a place to lodge deep within tender human flesh.

Mal grinned, then turned and darted towards the window, hoisting himself through to land on hard packed gravel. He steadily forced his feet into a heavy jog in the direction that Jayne had run.

Mal eased off as he reached the mercenary, his head swimming in words of regret and dissatisfaction.

Swiftly he snatched the open, half-ingested bottle of whiskey from Jayne's grasp, despite avid protest, and faced the wood shack that housed a part of him. Just one more piece of the puzzle he was leavin' behind; a different battlefield of the same strain.

Mal lifted the bottle in a mock toast and, a sardonic grin eating away at his features, placed the rounded mouth to his lips, the amber liquid falling smoothly from the open end of the glass bottle and cascading into welcome abyss.

Every word had come down to this.

_I'll miss you, Inara Serra. _

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One Hour Later **

"Ms. Serra?"

Inara kept her focus on the small wound to which she was tending, the bandage still dangling from the four year old's arm.

"Ms. Inara Serra?" the voice repeated. Inara glanced up from her position on her knees into the stunning blue eyes of an extremely young man, his starched uniform hanging stiffly on lithe muscles. She did not allow her features to betray the absolute irritation she felt.

"Yes?"

"Colonel Sentrey Crooks of the Anglo-Sino Alliance." Trey moved his hand from its place by his side, as much in greeting as to lift the beautiful Companion from her position on the wood floor.

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Colonel." Inara's hands remained, one at her side, the other keeping pressure on the small wound.

"I am here to escort you along your journey to Sihnon. Might you have any luggage to transmit from here to Base?" Trey left his hand in mid-air, insistent. Inara refused to move from her position, despite the friendly assistance that was offered her.

"Yes, of course. The five mahogany crates over near the ticket desk are mine. If you would be so kind as to retrieve my belongings, I would thank you graciously and complete the binding of this young child's arm." The young Colonel appeared surprised for a fleeting second before icy courtesy replaced an appreciative look of familiarity.

"Yes ma'am. Right away."

Inara turned to face the child, expecting a smile, but her small grey eyes had grown wide with fear as she stared towards a vacant point clearly past Inara's shoulder. Inara turned her head, only to be greeted by the sight of at least ten other troops. She guessed that more might have been outside. The question was…why?

An odd feeling writhed its way through her stomach, but she quickly brushed it aside and continued her work, crooning softly to the small child in her arms. The number of soldiers was odd, certainly, but her worry was all for naught.

Despite the dread that managed to sink its way into her bones, she was certain.

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Mal chuckled grimly as he swiped at Kaylee's arm. Ducking out of the way, she hurriedly retreated to the safe house of Simon's embrace while the crew sauntered languidly down a wide street in the middle of Modesto. 

"C'mon Cap'n, you can do better than that!"

Fortunately for Mal, Kaylee's grins were always infectious, and remaining in the company of the good-naturedmechanic had cheered him indefinitely into a better mood than had assaulted him earlier that day.

"Kaylee, I will not play tag with you. We're in a public place for cryin' out loud!" He grinned and gestured towards the thin pilot walking beside Jayne whose eyes were gleaming as she watched Kaylee's motions and began poking at her own fingers. "'Sides, that seems more towards River's line of consideration."

"I already asked, River don't know how t'play."

"I'm exceptionally proficient at sprinting, but the dynamics of judging the weight modifications and variable distances needed to seize theprey while endeavoring to circumvent the intrusion of exterior substances somehow alludes me."

Looking up from the mathematical equation she was running through on her fingers, River found that all five crew members had begun to stare, while most of the eyes glazed over from a lack of comprehension. Kaylee was the first to step forward.

"All right River darlin', watch this. I'm gonna touch your arm, say tag, and run away. You chase me and when you catch me, you touch me, say tag, and run from me, kay?"

Without waiting for a response, Kaylee reached over, lightly brushed River's arm and sprinted in the opposite direction. Simon and Mal both heaved a relieved sigh as River darted after her, small bare feet kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Y'know, Doc, you got yourself a handful with the two a'them—"

An ear-shattering cry interrupted Mal's statement as the brown haired maiden fell to her face in the dust. She didn't move. All three men sprinted in the direction of their fallen comrade, Jayne reaching her first and gently using numb hands to roll her to her back.

River sat with eyes clamped shut and fists wound so tightly into small spheres of fury that miniature half-moons of blood formed in the skin. Her mouth opened and closed, releasing tiny spurts of words that were lost in delusions.

"No…she told them…don't…leaf…gone…no…no!" Simon placed a weary hand on River's shoulder as the convulsions recessed, her body going still and her hands releasing from their grasp, the small streams of thick red essence dripping into the sand.

Kaylee stood behind Jayne, her hand pressed to her lips as her heart dropped to her toes.

"Mei mei," Simon whispered. His heart pounded in alarm and anger. No. She was getting better, she was improving. The diet, the drugs…they weren't after her any longer! She was getting…she was…

The young girl's eyes shot open and she stood to her feet in a balletic lift, her hands pressed to her temples as she murmured incoherently underneath her breath. She backed away a few paces and raised her gaze, a look of absolute conviction and fear crossing through her dark eyes.

"She wa—" the girl stopped, breathing heavily and wrapping her arms around her sides, the effort to make them comprehend almost too difficult for her. "S-sh-I told…you. Leaves and pebbles don't mix. The other rips one. Leaving nothing but stone. Pain…always pain." She stopped, swallowing dry air, her lips cracking as the words that she spoke burned the soft skin of them.

"Now they have one another and the time is gone. It's returned. The stone has come to take the leaves that cannot stand the storm. Oh God, so much pain…all gone…and nothing left to mourn it!" The girl dropped to her knees, not understanding how to make them see.

"That's a mite unsettlin'."

Mal glanced at Jayne. As Simon took Kaylee's hand, he considered giving the big Merc the Understatement of the Year award.

Mal grimaced, the smile gone from his face as he turned towards the waiting _Serenity_, his brown coat flinging in the wind as he marched towards his beloved boat.

"Well, after that thrillin' little—"

"Captain."

The soft voice of River echoed behind his back, it's tone entreating him to turn around. He would not.

"You have to see. You have to understand what you don't want to. They need you. For once they are broken, patches don't heal leaves."

Mal scowled impassively.

"Then leaves shouldn't go to forcin' themselves outside, just to feel the rain."


	7. Memory

**Disclaimer**: It's all at the beginning.Not mine, I'm just playing around. Speculating. Joss is Boss.

**A/N** - I must say, when I got barely any reviews for Chapter Six, I was a little hurt, but fine. Then, thanks to the genious of Agent Rouka, I realized that the reason I was getting no reivews is b/c...surprise! You've all already reviewed for Chapter Six. So, Chapter Seven is going to be shorter, and Chapter Eight will be posted as soon as I can get it up. It's already mostly written, I just have to finish it off. That way, if you feel so...enlightened, lol, I'd LOVE for you all to review. Please? Okay, enough begging...hehe...**

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Chapter Seven:  
**Memory**

"As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot escape."  
-_John Lancaster Spalding_

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"_But momma—"_

_"No buts. I don't care. You're going."_

_"Momma, I don't wanna go. I don't care if'n I got—" _

_The young woman with warm, chestnut colored eyes and long, ragged brown hair hid a small smile behind firmly pressed lips._

_"You're going, and that's final." Bending delicately at the waist, she yanked a thinly woven shall above the chilled skin that stood bared to the elements and brushed at a dirty stain on her daughter's rosy cheek. "And if you plan to belong, you had better clean up that grammar as well. I cannot fathom half the things Ioanna and Rei have been teaching you to say." _

_The small seven year old stared up at her mother unblinkingly, the gold flecks in doe brown orbs sparkling brilliantly in spite of the dreary chill. Her eyes began to fill with tears. She didn't want to go. She couldn't leave Momma, not here…not all alone like this…_

_And so she resolved. She would have her way._

_One small fist pounded against her side as she jerked away from the pallid hand that was pressed against her clammy cheek. In the middle of her withdrawal, her small feet twisted and she fell onto her backside. Tears welled up in two furious eyes that portrayed all the hate in her young world _

"_I ain't goin'! You cain't make me! No, no, no, no, no—" _

_Livid with rage, the young woman reached down and yanked her daughter to her feet. The child seemed to think she had _chosen_ this life! _

"_Do you _want_ to be like me? You'll go, or you'll never amount to anything, Inara Serra! Do you understand me?" The child's eyes widened, seemingly too large for her small, wane face, the tremors of rage and pain stopped and everything within her numbing to a dull ache. She meant it. Momma really meant to send her away…_

_The fear in her daughter's eyes twisted the young woman's stomach and heart. Pulling her daughter from the ground, she leaned against the rotten wood behind her and wrapped two thin arms around the young girl's small, gaunt body, almost flinching at the feel of chilled skin through the threadbare material._

_Deep sobs punctuated gasping cries as the child clung to her mother's neck. The woman pressed two soft lids together, black kohl running in streams of bleak pain down her gaunt but smooth and shapely cheeks. Thick, languid tears pooled in her beautiful brown eyes and dripped swiftly down a small, thin nose, mingling with the icy drops that had just begun to fall from the deep, grey sky. _

_Hundan…_

A rapid jerk threw Inara gently into the wood paneling of the elegant buggy and she glanced up sharply to gaze out the window. A metallic plated building met her scrutinizing gaze. It towered above the small wood and clay structures planted near it, the feeling rather misplaced in the heavily rustic atmosphere. Something didn't seem quite right. Why—?

"Excuse me," Inara placed a delicate hand on Colonel Crook's forearm, drawing his attention towards her, the icy blue that met her gaze unnerving in its familiarity. She flinched vaguely. "I was curious as to exactly where our destination lies. This doesn't seem to be much of an area for the landing or departure of spacecraft."

He smiled warmly, an enchanting curve that brought structure and an impressive allure to his already undeniable manner.

"I see you are not solely a woman of airs. My commanding officer has asked for a word with you before we commence our trip to Sihnon."

She nodded gently, folding two attractive hands in a delicate manner into her lap and burying the small twist in her breast beneath a delicately crafted veneer of calm ambiguity. She had already shown herself too inquisitive. Better for them to think less of her than more. She could only hope that the composed façade was holding its own as her fingers twisted one another, a nervous habit she had retained since before her days in House Madrassa.

Pressing back gently into the overstuffed seat, Inara lowered her eyelids, slowed her breathing, and drew silently from the only strength she had left.

_Mal…

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Okay guys...Chapter Eight will be up soon, hopefully as soon as you read this...please review! Feedback IS Love. And Money. (jk) 


	8. Trouble

**Disclaimers:** All at the beginning. You've seen 'em. Do I really have to do this again?

**A/n** - Okay, see, I told you I would get it up before I went to bed. Well, it is now almost 2 in the morning, and I have spent my evening making this the best that I can. This chapter was somewhat important, so I felt I really needed to work on it. And since it is my first Chapter Eight, you should be able to review. Isn't that great? Hehe, so, tell me what you think. Suggestions, ideas, corrections, everything is welcome. (Except flames please. If you have nothing better to do than flame someone else's story, then don't read it in the first place.) And to everyone who has reviewed and will be reviewing, I'll do my best to send some kind of reply out. All of my writing, I do for you guys, so enjoy!

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**Translations:  
**Fu chou – rotten  
Chou ba guai houzi de pigu – Ugly as hell and a monkey's butt  
Qu di yu – Go to hell  
Sha gua chun zi hundan – Retarded moronic bastard  
Chou san ba – Bitch  
Nide muchin shr ega da wukwei – Your mother is a big turtle  
Bizui – Shut up  
Xiongmeng de kuangren – Violent lunatic

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**Chapter Eight:  
Trouble**

_"Difficulties exist to be surmounted." - Ralph Waldo Emerson_

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_Oh God, this looks good…we haven't had cooking like this since—_Simon flinched and almost dropped the fork that he had steadily been raising as a sharp elbow jabbed into his side. Glancing over at Kaylee, he attempted reading the insistent look that she was shooting towards him.

_Wha—oh no. Why me? Why do I have to start the conversation? It isn't as if there aren't six other people sitting around this fu chòu table. _

Simon returned a look that asserted on a negative answer.

Simon was no longer in control of his life.

"So...ah, Mrs. Becket—"

The young woman glanced up and smiled shyly at Simon.

"Oh, please, call me Sio." Simon nodded his acquiescence.

"Sio. What, exactly, did you say your connection was with Mr. Yates?"

"I didn't." The woman smiled, her straight white teeth a distinct contrast with her ruddy cheeks and dirt covered slacks. "But it wasn't anythin' more than just a friendly acquaintanceship. My husband, God rest him, was a business partner 'fore his untimely passin' and Mr. Yates was good enough to find us passage to a place where as I could start m'self a new life with my young'n here."

"On Paquin?" The words had flown from the empty hole before he could stop them. Simon knew that the same question was on every other mind there (except Jayne's), but he was not usually the instrument of delivery when it came to obviously dull-witted questions.

Sio placed a small hand on the shoulder of an undersized girl who looked to be about seven or eight years old. The child's eyes, one grey, one violet, greatly resembled two moons that had been forced into her forehead without her own consent, for they rivaled the rest of her face for size. Oddly enough, she hadn't spoken once since coming on board.

"Yes sir, on Paquin." Sio raised an eyebrow and fixed Simon with a look fit to kill. "Why? You doubtin' me?"

Simon's fork finally clattered to his plate and he fumbled busily with his hands, glancing down at the table and mumbling a mixture of apologies and hushed curses at his fiancée.Kaylee simply smiled warmly and placed one hand on her beloved's thigh, her touch washing him with an instant calm as his vision focused in on his plate and his hand met hers.

"I believe what the good Doctor means to say is that there ain't much work on a planet like Paquin 'less you got yourself a talent for performance of some kind or th' other."

Mal watched their passenger intently, his deep, worn eyes maintaining a glare equal to her own. His own stomach hadn't been near as settled as it could've been since she'd roughed her way on board earlier that day, and Mal was near to certain that it weren't only 'Nara's leavin' providin' him with a queasy gut.

Sio turned the glare on him and placed one hand in her lap, the other at the holster on her side.

"I'm an opera performer."

At this Mal raised an eyebrow of his own. Was it just him, or had her accent—he mentally negated his hearing skills and returned to the conversation at hand. However, he had no time to throw back a comment, as Jayne's guffawing could be heard echoing through the room.

"Jayne?" Mal questioned, turning a glance to the man sitting at his right, fresh bao dripping from the corners of his partially open mouth.

"Yeah?"

"Swallow."

Jayne grimaced, forcing the mouthful down his throat and grinning at the woman who now had both eyes affixed to his head. She looked as if a knife down his throat would've been very pleasurable at the moment.

"I jus thought a' a little scrawny thing like that up on a opera stage is all. Seems a mite odd to me, but I ain't never been one for no how tell what them rich, fanciable people likes to see."

"Then maybe you should keep your mouth shut, you chou ba guai houzi de pigu!"

Jayne stood to his feet and slammed two fists on the table.

"Do ya wanna go? Take this somewhere a little less crowded? Huh? Qu di yu!"

Mal made a low noise in his throat.

"Jayne…"

"Sure, if you think you can actually take me, sha gua chun zi hundan! I dou—"

"Jayne…"

"—wish you'd try me, chou san ba!"

"Jayne."

"Nide muchin shr ega da wukwei!"

"Bizui!"

Every eye turned as Mal calmly stood to his feet. Even Jayne didn't miss the cool warning of a hand laid gently on metal.

"You wanna leave this table. Now."

"But Mal! She ain't got no right to treat me no way! Much less that way!"

"Walk away. Jayne."

Grumbling, the big Merc removed his plate from the table with a heavy hand and snatched the fresh cider, commencing to stomp from the room in the direction of his usual eatery, reserved for those times when he was cast out. As soon as Jayne had exited, Mal turned his glare towards Sio, who remained standing, her chest just beginning to calm from her fury.

"Mrs. Becket. I know that what was said here was uncalled for on either parts, but you would do me a great kindness to end any confrontation with my crew. _Before_ it starts."

Sio nodded. "Of course, Captain. Now, if you all'll excuse us, I'm thinkin' I'll be takin' myself and Rei here back to our rooms. 'S been a long day. Packin' and such. G'night all." A chorus of goodnights followed Sio Becket from the room as she forcibly removed her daughter from the seat and walked evenly from the common room.

River lifted herself from her place at the table and began to move in the direction that Jayne had gone.

"The new one brings trouble. Much unnecessary trouble. I must go find and help Jayne. He is sorry, Captain, he meant her no wrong. And now he feels betrayed." Casting a long sided glance at Mal, she slipped from the room, her faint steps padding gently along the cool metal grating.

Kaylee sat in heavy conversation with Simon, their heads pressed nearly together. Whether quarrelling or crooning sweet apologies, the couple was lost in their own world, and Zoë turned to address her captain in privacy. Turning her body to face the man that gazed at the wall, his vision ensconced by the air in front of him, Zoë placed a hand on Mal's shoulder and drew him from his reverie.

"Somethin' about her don't seem right, does it Sir?"

Mal sighed, a noise from deep within his chest that betrayed the hurt inside.

"Nothin' seems right anymore."

* * *

"Ms. Serra, I presume."

Inara twisted a finger, then quickly silenced the habit. Even the tiniest uncontrolled detail could be precarious.

"Yes, of course, General...?"

"Names are inconsequential." The balding man in front of her raised an overly bushed eyebrow, then returned his vision to the clipboard in his hand. "You were once a Companion, located on Sihnon, correct?"

"Yes, but I don't see how that information is—"

"Ms. Serra. Please, I do not wish to make this more complicated than it must be. I would request that you leave the questions to us for the time being."

Inara nodded, the pain in her chest tightening as her eyes flickered around for any kind of escape route, should it be necessary. The walls were sheeted in metal, the thick light from the only overhead lamp bouncing off of the silvered plates and glaring hideously into Inara's eyesight. Three guards stood by the only door in plain sight; two armed with laser sighted D-12's, the third, a good old-fashioned rifle, enhanced with laser sights.

A singular potted plant stood in one corner, and the stone floors were painted a heavy, deep black. The only comforting article in the entire room was the desk, which was a hand hewn wood table, most likely a darkly stained oak, that seemed heavily out of place in the bleak and otherwise unfeelingly cold room.

"I see here that approximately two years ago you took up residence on a Firefly class ship, with a man by the name of Malcolm Reynolds. Rented out your own private shuttle? And yet, you remain a registered member of the Guild."

"Yes."

"This contract was recently terminated. And this is why you require a transport ship to return to Sihnon."

"Yes. Payment should not be an issue. My accounts with the Guild have remained intact throughout my stay—"

"It is not the issue, nor do I require an explanation." The General stood to his feet, and the metal chair on which Inara was seated grew icy and unbearably rigid beneath her touch. She squirmed, slightly, her pulse racing unconsciously and her breathing becoming shallow without her consent. She had been on _Serenity_ too long. Already she was loosing control of her emotions.

He paced along behind her, and coming to her left side, stopped, leaning against the wood table and tracing the worn ring patterns with the tip of one scarred finger. Inara kept her mouth pursed and her hands in her lap, her eyes focused solely on the air in front of her.

_Mal…_

"Ms. Serra, we have information from various sources that tell us of two fugitives who made passage from Persephone on a Firefly class transport, a little more than one year ago."

Inara swallowed deeply, but her features remained calm, an outer shell of immobile tranquility that protected a trembling core of fear and nausea.

"Now, our government has gone to great lengths to return these fugitives. We have been thwarted time and again."

Inara nearly started when two dark, beady eyes appeared in front of her face, their piercing intensity no less than disturbingly harsh.

"Simon and River Tam."

The simple recitation of the two names was enough to cause Inara to taste bile on her tongue. She kept her vision ahead. It wasn't enough.

She watched as a look of complete satisfaction washed over the clean-shaven façade and realized, much to her dismay, that regardless of her attempts to maintain control, she had utterly failed. He had spotted the momentary look of recognition and fear that she hadn't managed to cover pass through her eyes.

And he knew.

The foreboding voice lowered to a deep baritone, which rattled Inara's very soul. A hand reached out and gripped her chin, turning her head and bringing her straight-eyed vision to meet his. She could feel the bruises forming under the skin as she bit her tongue to keep it in place.

"You know them. We know you. You cannot hide any longer. We _will_ find that ship. We _will _find your little friends. And if we don't, you're going to wish you had never left your mother's womb."

Inara tore her chin from his grasp and drew backwards, her eyes flaming in fury. She had _most definitely_ been on _Serenity_ too long.

"Do _not_ ever consider placing your hands upon me or threatening my life again. I am a companion, well respected and deserving of my position. I demand that you provide me with passage home and stop this nonsense immediately. And I must inform you, the Guild will hear of this as soon—"

Her tirade was rudely interrupted by the sound of guffawing laughter.

"Might I ask what you find so amusing?"

The General's eyes darkened, but his smirk remained, and he brusquely took hold of the top of her arm, clamping his fingers tightly around soft flesh.

"Do you truly think the Guild cares about you now?"

Inara's mouth dropped from its stately position as she fumbled around words she knew she would never get out. The hand around her arm drew her closer.

"Did you not wonder why they never responded to your letters, nor your waves? The Guild is done with you, Ms. Serra. After discovering your part in the Miranda…_incident_, they have removed you from their registry and shunned you. You will never return to your beloved Sihnon, and they will never welcome you home. You are away from their protection. We're playing by _my _rules now."

Inara jerked away from his grasp, her eyes widening as her anger reached levels she never knew it could pass.

"Qu di yu. You'll never get anything from—"

The sound of skin against skin resounded through the room as a red bloom ignited fire across Inara's cheek. He…he had slapped her. Her flesh remained numb as Inara tasted the blood that tingled and ran down her lip.

"Xiongmeng de kuangren. He'll find me. And when he does, you'll be sorry you ever set eyes—"

A sudden pain erupted behind her neck and crept its way towards her temple. Her world buzzed and flurried as the black concrete rushed towards her vision, too quickly for a normal world.

_Maybe this is all just a dream…maybe…Mal…_

General Kurethkin grinned at the immobile former companion lying at his feet and then looked up to the young soldier standing before him, his rifle butt held down at an angle.

"At ease, son."

The private glanced once more at the woman he had forced to the ground and then succinctly stepped back into the line. Kurethkin's gaze remained upon the deep black locks which began to blend with the floor until he heard a door creak open.

"Colonel Crooks. Escort Ms. Serra to her room aboard the Magellan. It is time for us to depart for Paquin."

He felt no motion beside him, not any movement intent upon performing the task that he had commanded. Turning, he found the young Colonel in a daze, his bright blue eyes lost in visions. It seemed almost…_remorseful_. And that was an emotion General Kurethkin would not tolerate.

"Colonel! We will need to make double time to reach Paquin in time for Sergeant Yang's debriefing. Move!"

The sandy haired, blue-eyed Colonel never met the gaze of his commanding officer, but instead moved to gently clasp the head of the unconscious Companion, lifting her gently into his arms and walking evenly from the room.

Kurethkin watched coolly, his scrutinizing gaze recording every image. Crooks would have to be watched. With the flick of a finger he ordered the three privates out of the room and towards the waiting shuttle that would take them to the Magellan. He took one last look around before he left. God, he hoped he was done with this smelly, dirt-ridden planet. His superiors would be pleased. And that meant promotions.

"We are tired of chasing. Now it is time to bring them…to us."

**

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**Please review! If you don't, I'll sing you a song! I'm sure you don't want that...do you? Hehe...just wait... 


	9. Losing Focus

**Disclaimer**: Standard disclaimers apply...feel free to use any of my created characters, but all the crew were created by the great and powerful Joss. Sounds sorta like "Oz", doens't it...

**A/n**: Okay, I know this took a little longer than I expected, but it also turned out pretty gorram long. A lot longer than I expected. Sorry if it's too long for some of you. I thought about splitting it up, but my muse wouldn't let me. It dictated how far I should go. So I tried to follow. Oh, and for those who might not figure it out...the beginning is a dream sequence. Thus accounting for the lack of identity and abrasivness of motion.

Thank you all SO MUCH and a huge shout out to **Agent Rouka** and **Mrs. MalContent. **I really love all of my reviewers and sincerely hope that they enjoy. (breaks into song) "Everything I do, I do it for you..."

**Also, as a side note, I'm rating this chapter "T+" for a bit more graphic violence.** I really don't want people to get angry with me, but the images are not 'lovey dovey gumdrops'. So here's your fair warning. I tried not to inflict too much 'squeamishness' into it, but just know that there will probably be hints of it for the next few chapters. Imagine Niska. Going one step further.

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* * *

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**Translations:  
**_Baobei _- sweetheart  
_Jing tao hai land de ren sheng_ - All's well that ends well  
_Gos se_ – crap  
_Zhen mei naixing de fozu_ – Extraordinarily impatient Buddha  
_Laotianye – _Jesus  
_Dong le ma_ – Are we clear here?

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* * *

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Chapter Nine:  
**Losing Focus**

_"She was special. There's forty women in House Madrassa and you'd pick her out in a second. Coulda been House Priestess, few years time."  
_"_Is that right."  
_"_Had her eyes on it too. Very focused. She's like you, more than a little."  
_"_And how exactly is that?"  
_"_She hates complications."_

* * *

The cool breeze whipped, ruffling already tousled hair and turning strands that played across his forehead. A blue-black haze hung in the atmosphere while thick, deep-layered clouds roiled across an angry sky. Broad blades of prairie grass thrashed against his knees.

He stood in front of a wood wrought cabin and breathed deeply, the air clean and heavy with the scent of rain, sweat, and freshly hewn sawdust. He stepped closer, till he stood on the creaking wooden porch and faced the door. It had no handle, but an oversized deadlocking latch kept it tightly bound, never to be opened. He reached with a steady hand and wrapped firm fingers around the piece of metal that protruded from the impediment.

The thick iron was cold and hard underneath his grasp. But it didn't move. He stared at the rustic locking mechanism, the red-hot heat of corrosion a sharp contrast to the icy blue chill of the metal. His fingers flinched and flexed and he tugged sharply to the left, a vain attempt at unlocking the wooded door to reach whatever lie inside.

Heaving once more, he suddenly released his grip as the lock fell away from the door and clanked loudly on the corroded boards. Without a sound the panels groaned on their hinges, parting but a few inches from the doorframe; barley enough for the scent of soot and warm lavender to twist about and touch at his nose.

He lifted a weighted hand to place it softly against the wood, but before skin touched surface, the door swung away from his touch and clanked against the wall. He didn't hear it.

He took a halting step forward, the thick layer of dust springing into the air around his eyes. A shimmering glow lit the room; the air seemed tangible and golden. As his eyes swept the room, he caught sight of a woman. Her thick, dark hair hung over one shoulder, half of it swept up in a knot that rested at the center of her head. The rest fell in glorious waves.

Brightly stained cotton clothed every inch of her body, the orange-red hugging shapely hips and white blouse clinging to a curvaceous torso. Her back was to him, and she seemed to be rocking her body softly, a soothing sound drifting from between her parted lips. Hearty flames burned in the hearth before her, its flickering red flames busily eating away at the logs that had been thrown to its insatiable appetite. He stepped again, and once more. On the third, he watched as she turned to face him.

Her soft eyes were buried in shadow, but her deep, rich lips lifted in a small smile, set back in darkly tanned skin that was an abrasive contrast to the white. A small bundle rested in her arms, wriggling impatiently. It began to wail, the only sound in the room that reached him. Piercing cries jutted their way into his ears and he pressed his hands to them, words spilling from his mouth that begged it to cease.

He squeezed his eyes shut until his nose began to twitch. His stomach revolted on him, heaving spasms of retching until he finally opened his eyes.

Fire.

The sickly sweet smell of burning flesh.

The flames consumed mother and child as the pounding of artillery fire and resonant echo of grenades rang in his ears, leaving him deaf to the child's cries.

And she simply sat, a small frown, heightened at each corner by a hidden smile. A satirically amused smirk sitting lightly on her face. As if she knew something. And he didn't take kindly to that.

The flames had consumed the child, halting the ominous cries. Still she sat, until the burning tongues reached her neck. Suddenly, a look of fear passed through her doe brown eyes, until a panic stricken gazed replaced that of cool contemplation. In a sudden, vain attempt, he reached one hand in front of him as hers glided through the wall of flames. Skin brushed skin and eye touched eye as he grasped her slipping fingers.

In an instant the roar of the flames surrounded him, deafened him. The noise popped at his ears like a recorder chip gone bad.

_Focus, baobei…_

* * *

Mal leaned heavily against his bunker, the deep harsh sounds of gasping rushes of air resounding off the metal walls. Sweat dripped from his brow, scraggled hair sopping and pasted to the skin of his forehead. Every inch of his body and his blankets were soaked with salted fear. Slowing his rapid pulse by sheer force of will, he rested his head against the palm of his hand and shut his eyes.

Light flashed before his eyes…and so did she.

There was no way in hell he was getting back to sleep now.

Standing, Mal braced himself upon the wall until his body ceased to tremble. He walked to the sink on shaking legs in order to rinse his face, the icy cold water not enough to scald the images from his memory. Mal turned from the visions that plagued him and wearily began to pull on his everyday wear in the blue bathed twilight of his bunk, then crawled up the ladder and took a step towards the kitchen to boil up a brew.

"_Jing tao hai land de ren sheng_."

Acutely trained hearing caught the soft, sweet feminine voice as it drifted from the cockpit to meet his ears. Twisting back into an empty corner, he heard no reply, only the distinct sizzle of a wave being ended, followed by the light trinking of slippers on grid metal. He waited for the offender to pass, but no shadow crossed his hiding place. After a few minutes of distinct silence, Mal brought his body around the corner to a full view of an empty cockpit. He crept up the rickety metal stairs and peered into the room.

Empty.

Bringing his hand to the back of his neck, Mal gave his head a vigorous shake and tramped back down the stairs, his feet guiding his way to the common room.

_Better add a little of that fancy brand whiskey…just in case._

* * *

She peered into the black of the corridor until his heavy steps passed by her and on to the common room. Slipping from a small niche in the corner, she walked silently down a corridor of stairs and into the passenger dorm, slowly sliding the thin door closed behind her.

* * *

A tiny stream of consciousness. Disembodied voices floated through the walls, stinging Inara's ears and pounding through the raw pain in her head. Her eyes flickered open and she sucked in a tender breath of air. The smoky surroundings scratched at her torn throat.

A sudden spasm of coughing from the torched atmosphere sent her careening off of whatever surface she had been lying on, to land upon her back on the floor, eyes fixated idly on the large spiral of incense that hung from the ceiling. Smoke drifted upwards in a lazy stream, then down to encircle the room and create mystical patterns on the walls.

Inara reached back and leisurely pressed herself from the floor; sheets of pale yellow silk streaming down one arm in soft waves. Her gaze languidly swept the room, the red brocade that draped the walls. A large squared bed sat in the middle of the room, its headboard pressed against the back wall and overstuffed pillows tumbling from behind a mahogany footboard. Silk sheets of metallic sienna slid from beneath a thick burnt orange and gold quilt that was folded over, two down pillows lying on top. The rest of the room lay blank, except for the spiral of incense burning steadily above her head and a door approximately the size of a box about halfway up the wall to the right of the bed.

She glanced downward to find that her clothing had been removed and replaced. A simple, pastel yellow top clung discreetly to her breasts, rising just above her naval and cutting short underneath her arm to leave one limb and shoulder bare, the other clad in the silken fabric. A sarong made of the same material sat low on her hips and fell loosely to her feet, which were bare. And rather cold. A slender silver band wrapped itself around her left wrist, the same arm as was bare, with two others placed around her ankles. She reached down lethargically to touch them, then glanced around once more as she lifted herself to her feet.

The room spun for a few minutes, followed by a hesitant, yet dream-like focus of her vision. Everything…it was all moving slowly.

Too slowly.

Pressing one delicate hand to her forehead, Inara shook herself gently, long strands of curly black hair flowering around her face. She could've sworn she'd had it pulled back…her nails were bare. And short. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Drawing back the lids, Inara grimaced. The room spun and tilted slowly; the throbbing near the back of her neck began again. She lifted her hands to rub at the sides of her arms, the abrupt motion causing her to flinch away in pain as her lips parted gently. Her eyes flickered in the direction of her left arm where bruises in the shape of four fingertips bloomed in violent succession against the skin, purple flaming furiously against the deep brown.

In an instant the pain began to return, releasing the cloud that threatened to fuzz over once more were she to ever relinquish control. The ache that had knotted her neck into tight cords stretched through Inara's head to end agonizingly at her temple, tendrils reaching like the thin ropes of a net. Raw, smooth fingertips brushed against her lip, the raised clot of blood painful to touch. Her chin ached, along with the high cheekbone she had been praised for the entirety of her life. She could only assume that hot color flared against her copper-brushed skin.

In that instant she began to breath rapidly, the short, succinct inhalations causing her to choke on the smoggy air.

_Focus…focus…where am I? What's going—_

Her own thoughts were stopped short as painful memories from the past few days erupted into firm reality inside her mind. All the blemishes began to make coherent sense. Anger began to seethe through, followed by deep-rooted training that cut her emotional response short. Seating herself on the bed, she ran through her mind.

She was in Alliance hands, and not as a friendly guest. The Guild had abandoned her. They wanted Simon and River, that was for certain, but at this point no one on Serenity was safe and their only chance of escape was her warning. And she was stuck in a box. With no feasible entrance, exit, or mode of escape.

Her head began to cloud again, a spinning kaleidoscope of sounds and colors, memories and visions that haunted her. Then it all stopped and became nothing, a small insensitive prick on the fabric of her bed, and she desired nothing more than to lean over and touch. Placing her right hand on her left arm, she squeezed where the bruises had suspended themselves, sending a savage rip of pain through her body, but pulling her mind from its self-induced stupor. They had given her something…

Gathering herself, she drew back to her pensive state and stood up, a valiantly vain attempt at thwarting the drugs effects for a few more minutes. She paced to the wall, her mind swimming, fighting whatever had been injected into the already weakened system, and leaned against the soft velvet brocade resignedly. Thoughts spun in colored circles, words smelling of hate and despair and pain.

_Buddha knows how they plan to get Mal here…Mal!_

Her heart leapt, sank, and throbbed painfully in quick succession at the thought. She longed for the presence that drew her as deftly as a moth to flame, his tender smile and soft touch, the commanding, peaceful nature and confident air that surrounded him. She drew her strength solely from what was left of his. She would never desire to bring him here. She wished him to stay away, for himself as well as the rest of them. She needed him to stay away, purely for her own selfish desires.

The Alliance had the hand in their favor, and a surprisingly good poker face at that. Unless she truly had been blind…and if so, what had she done to them all? 

In a small, disparate act of fury, Inara kicked the wall farthest from the bed with one uncovered foot. A small motion caught the corner of her vision. Turning her head to the left, she gently hit the wall with her hand, not loud enough to cause reverberation, but to simulate her previous action. Again, a vibration. Small, yes, almost a slight shimmer, reminiscent of the air and gaseous vapors outside her shuttle on a blistering day.

She repeated the action, this time slightly harder. There.

Holo-door.

Now, to find the projection mechanism.

Inara's eyes caught sight of the small box-shaped lines on the wall. Apprehensively she traced trembling fingers over the lines until a small indention in one pressed its way into her fingertip. Using a short nail tip, she pried open the metal door, only to find a mid-sized bucket, assumedly for the placement of waste, and a small thermoplate, the bottom nonetheless warm and top screwed on tightly.

_Gos se…_

Only one option had been left her: an attempt at getting the better of her captors.

Tapping the wall again gently, Inara moved to the place where the solid foundation flickered and pressed her back against the wall in wait, applying pressure to her arm every few minutes in an effort to retain consciousness. Her eyes drifted lazily around the room, searching for any kind of weapon. With no luck in that direction, she began to spin the silver band on her wrist, curiosity getting the better of her. For lack of a more interesting subject, that is.

After an incalculable amount of time, footsteps echoed along the corridor, drawing Inara's vision to the forefront and her hands into a quick draw tucked tightly beside her body, ready to strike at a moment's notice. Her heart throbbed noisily, echoing in her own ears and threatening to pound from her chest as adrenaline pumped from overwrought glands. In less than a second's notice a three-foot section of wall slid to the side and an overweight man clad entirely in silver stepped through.

Snapping one arm from beside her, Inara caught him in the stomach with her fist and then pushed him into the room, the heel of her other hand cracking him at the base of the neck and throwing him into a world of darkness.

As she turned a fist caught her in the chin, throwing her head backwards as she momentarily lost her balance. She pressed a return forward, her jaw clenching in painful satisfaction as the weapon easily found its target, hard bone clashing into soft flesh and a strange, supple metal. Balled knuckles immediately began to throb.

However, a mix of adrenaline and subconscious training took over good sense as she used the few tricks she had learned to dispose of whatever lie in her wake. A well-directed kick to the same man she had punched left him lying on the ground as two more guards ran up to grab frantically at both of her arms.

She flinched while the one on the left took hold of soft, bruised flesh. Pain spiked through to her scalp and she sent a solitary fist downwards as she twisted to the right. The pressure on her arm released, but a sudden forceful mass found its way to her stomach, knocking the breath from her as she gasped readily and her eyes went large. For the sake of revenge, Inara let loose one more swing that cut open two flesh wounds on the soft skin of her hand and made a sickening crunch as it met the firm cartilage of an already crooked nose.

In that same instant, a sharp pain, acute as electricity, wound its way up her back and spread tendrils of fire throughout her body, racing down her arms, shooting into her neck and head and down to the tips of her toes. She sank to the ground, her head bashing against the solid floor while every muscle contracted and then released, rendering every joint and limb completely useless.

The world faded to black.

* * *

She felt her lids flicker again, the sheer pain of motion bringing sparkles of light to meet her in the darkness. It was the same as before, only this time, the pain was instant. And intensified a hundred fold.

_Zhen mei naixing de fozu_…

"Look boys. It seems as if her Highness has decided to join us."

A distinctly feminine voice drifted through her thoughts and buried itself into her mind. She awakened vaguely and jerked at her wrists, the innate need to rub at burning eyes driving her mad.

"Rutkkleiv. Now."

Two calloused hands pressed roughly against her shoulders and moved her to an upright position. That meant she had been lying down. The silence ate at her ears as her mind began to clear, the brilliant light pouring from high lamps piercing in its intensity.

When an adequate amount of coherency had returned, Inara studied her surroundings. The room was cold, metallic, and revoltingly sterile, hooks and chains swinging ominously from the walls. Three men stood around her, one with an obviously bruised and broken nose, two laser pistols and one AK-47 trained on her chest.

A few hollow metal tables were scattered around the room, and mops hung towards one door, two empty buckets sitting below them. The bench she sat on was also hard and empty, the cool of the thin aluminum writhing through the thin yellow fabric and into her skin. However, the most frightening sight lay in front of her face.

A slender young woman, maybe a few inches taller than she herself, leaned against one of the tables, thick auburn hair flowing in flawless waves over her shoulders and softly glimmering down her back.

White translucent fabric hung in small sheets over her body like the thin strings of a spider's web. Underneath the gauzy material the woman was dressed much the same as she, the only difference being the color, a pastel green that brought her violet eyes to the forefront of her face. Every feature seemed perfect. Simulated, almost.

What sent the shudder down Inara's spine were her eyes. They were wicked and sinister, and in them lay buried the look of one that took a type of pleasure in pain and evil. A person so twisted that even the greatest emotion did not phase or release a response in them. She could not show weakness to this woman.

"Release me," she croaked, her voice barely more than a whisper as the words slipped past raw vocal cords. The young woman glanced up from the papers she had been studying so intently.

"Excuse me?"

Inara cleared her throat and began again, the words coming easier this time.

"I demand…that you...release me..." Her voice continued to sound strained and halted to her own ears, but the woman just placed the papers on a small shelf behind her and stepped closer.

"You didn't actually think you'd be let out here unbound, did you Princess?" The woman chuckled, a sinister sound that sent chills racing up Inara's spine. "Especially after that stunt you pulled. I must say though, I was rather impressed with your performance. You managed to take down two of my men. Even gave O'Malley here a broken nose. I didn't realize the Guild made Martial Arts a part of their programming."

"Self-defense," Inara choked, blood splattering slightly from the corners of her mouth with nothing to catch it. "All companions are trained in the art. It could one day come to great use."

"I imagine so." The woman began her trek in Inara's direction, finally coming to sit beside her on the icy metal. A sharp-nailed hand took hold of her bruised chin and brushed through dark hair. "I'm quite sorry that this happened dear. You see, General Kurethkin was assigned with specific orders. And he broke them." She patted Inara's cheek gently, familiarly, leaving her hand to linger.

"Of course, it has been taken care of. I do not hold to orders being disobeyed. In the strictest sense." Suddenly clutching her chin, the woman snapped Inara's head to the right, directing vision to a wall that she had previously missed.

Inara felt her stomach churn and held back a small heave as she managed one deep breath and no other reaction to the gruesome sight that sat before her. The man who had hit her was no more.

Kurethkin, as the woman had called him, hung motionless from a chain by the rope that bound his hands together, red sorrow crusted and hardened along his skin. There were no visible outside wounds, but for a small cut on his ribcage and above his eyebrow; however, the lines of blood that had streamed from the corners of his mouth were indication enough.

His eyes. Open. Pained. Repentant.

_Laotianye…_

"As I said. I do not take kindly to those who disobey direct orders."

"What do you want?" Inara spat, her calm nearly gone and the disgust barely keeping itself from resonating in her voice. The woman laughed outright, and the hearty gale swept throughout the room, chilling the air.

"Chelan."

The young Private with the AK-47 trained on both of them stepped to the desk and picked up a capture, succinctly handing it to his mistress.

"Lady Selene."

"Thank you." The woman called Selene turned, and slid the capture in front of Inara's face, watching the nearly broken Companion narrowly.

Inara managed to control her emotional response, mainly because she had been somewhat prepared for what might lie on the capture. What she wasn't prepared for was the state of the human being portrayed.

The large, frightened eyes of River Tam stared up at her, stringy brown hair crowding her face and deep black circles tracing her eyes. A hospital gown hung on her wane frame, and her lids seemed shrunken back into a gaunt face. Those two orbs, which Inara had come to know so well and were always alight in laughter, glared back at her hauntingly, as if the young woman in the picture knew something. Knew everything. _Miranda…_

"You recognize her. I know you do. I can read it in your face. The set of your lips, the faith in your eyes. You know them. And you know exactly where they are."

Inara swallowed and drew her gaze from the picture, her eyes coming to rest on the wall in front of her.

"Do not expect any information of value. A companion does not betray a trust, and self-defense is not the only—"

"Oh, I'm quite certain it isn't." Selene once again grasped Inara's face in a motherly-gesture. "And I would never have expected so much out of you."

She stood to her feet and paced towards the table, picking up a small white bottle and a clean cloth.

"But you see, there are many other ways to…'skin a cat'." Selene stepped over and handed the bottle and cloth to the one called Chelan. Inara kept her eyes trained upon the woman who strided from side to side with such delicate ease. Her bare feet padded gently on the metallic floor.

"First, I would like to inform you that any escape is irresponsible, unpardonable, and impractical." She glanced up in the middle of her pace, conviction buried in her eyes. "If you'd like to escape with you life intact, that is."

She smiled as she stopped and gestured pointedly at Inara's wrist.

"You see, that silver band is set to trigger if one of two things happen: A, you attempt to pass the threshold of that holo-door to your room, and B," at this she leant down and gripped Inara's chin, forcing her to meet her vision unwaveringly, "I either tire of your shenanigans or find any other reason to no longer have a use for you." Selene released her grasp and stepped backwards. "_Dong le ma_?"

"Just one question." Inara spoke firmly, hoping she'd be allowed one.

Selene smiled with her back turned and shook her head gently. The Companion had no idea how much her thoughts betrayed her.

"No, it's not just one. You have two. Two very, very important questions. And I like you. So I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to answer both."

"Number one, the reason that small piece of silver is so deadly is not because of an explosive device. Or anything near the like. But you've already figured as much. And what you think it is…you're right."

She smiled wickedly as she straightened papers on the small table. She loved showing off.

"And number two. The lightheaded reaction is the result of a very strong sedative by the name of rethrovexyn. It is completely odorless, tasteless, and dissolves quite well. The best transmitter happens to be air. I had figured a small dosage would be enough to keep you under. But that isn't the first time I have miscounted you." She snapped a solid drawer shut and looked past Inara.

"And I doubt it will be the last."

Inara opened her mouth to speak, but at that instant a damp cloth was pressed over the open cavity and she unwillingly inhaled the fiendish substance. It burned an acid-like flavor on her tongue, biting away at the pores and sending her head into a dizzying array of spinning colors before a comforting world of black greeted her once more.

Selene frowned as the young woman sank to the floor. She flopped open the file in her hands and then glanced at Private Chelan, her eyes glinting ominously.

"We've got a few notes to deliver."

* * *

Simon breathed deeply and shook his hands gently. He stared at the Captain's retreating back and cursed under his breath. He was only a man. Just a man. Bones and tendons and flesh. And muscles. Lots of muscles.

_Musclesthat will cause me to defy gravity as I'm shooting out of the airlock._

_No_, he repeated to himself, this time with much stronger intensity. _Just…a man…_

"Captain." Simon stated as he walked in stiffly and stood behind one of the chairs around the table. Kaylee's seat. Mal glanced up and took in Simon's usual appearance.

"Doctor." He continued refilling his mug with coffee. Well, what looked like coffee.

"Uhm, I—I have a matter that I-I gre-eat-ly," Simon cleared his throat as Mal leaned back against the countertop, fingering the clay mug and taking deep swallows of the warm…brew.

"What I mean to say is, um, well, I want to…to ask…I mean, to talk…to discuss…"

"Aw hell, just say it outright. Doc's been screwin' Lil' Kaylee all 'round the gorram ship and now he wants to make good for his deeds." Jayne brushed past Simon and clapped him on the back, causing the medic to stumble forward. "'Bout damn time, too."

Mal nearly smiled at the look of dumbfounded disgust and astonishment that overwhelmed the good Doctor's face as he watched Jayne pour himself a mug from the steaming pot in the corner.

"Good god, could you _be_ anymore crass."

"Dunno." Jayne paused and tilted his head at the medic. "Could ya act like ya got a bigger stick up yer ass?" He smirked as he raised the mug to his lips and then almost choked at the flavor. "Good gorram Mal, what'd ya brew this with? Engine oil?"

"Wood alcohol." Mal smiled sardonically as he made his way around the countertop. A closer hand at Simon. "Just a little more'n usual."

Jayne's words had finally begun to sink in. And it was about gorram time for him to have a little fun.

"Seems to me I heard mention of you takin' up with my mechanic."

The dumbfounded look was now turned upon Mal. Only this time it held fear. Much more fear.

"I—uh."

"Sir, I think you'd better get up here."

Zoe's voice rang through the dining area before Simon could think up a response. Mal sighed at the ruin of his fun. And he hadn't even gotten started. However, the urgency that rang in her voice as she spoke sent a shiver down Mal's spine. He set his mouth into a hard-pressed line and began a steady walk towards the helm.

"In fact, I think you'd all better come up here."

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So, please tell how you liked it! I love reviews, and I love my reviewers even more! I need your opinions to tell me how I'm doing. I want good and bad, otherwise I'll send my tiny children minions after you...they walk funny, like that girl on the Ring. Yeah, you heard me right...I'm sending _children_ to the people who don't review!


	10. Threat

Disclaimer: Of course, as always, disclaimers still apply. See chapters 1 - 9 if you still haven't gotten that one yet... 

**A/n:** Wow. It really has been a long time, hasn't it. Two years. I wonder if there is anyone even still with me, lol? If not, it's all good. To be honest guys, I really don't think I can apologize enough. Seriously. I feel so bad for having left all of my loyal readers where I left them...I've had the story in my head for two years now, and I never even let you guys finish it! Well...this is kinda a test. I decided to go back, since I have finally gotten back into my writing, and see if anyone is even still interested. If so, then I really truly plan on finishing this. If not...then I guess this is the last chapter. So, only reviews will tell me! Not meaning to put this on you guys, but that is the only way I know if there is even a point of putting this on paper. I have other, non-fanfic stuff I need to be working on too. Okay then, I guess I'll let you get to the story now...Enjoy!! And to those who actually remember and stayed with me...I LOVE Y'ALL!!!

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Chapter Ten:  
**Threat**

"_He who does not fear death cares naught for threats." -  
__Pierre Corneille_

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"_In fact, I think you'd all better come up here."_

The ceiling lay above her, a blank canvas of words and colors and sounds and numbers. Pastel fragrances swirled about her, capturing her mind until the low-pitched voice cut through her stillness. She lifted her head gently, clumped and greased blonde locks bunching around her mismatched eyes.

_The strong one calls._

Her vision focused, then unfocused, then refocused as the muscles in her back strained to lift her to an upright position. She placed one foot upon the ground, followed by the other, her motions smooth and blank as those of a young child. She was small for her fifteen years. But she had practiced.

She brought her hand to the side of the ship's wall, dragging it softly as she padded along. Her dirty brown overalls wagged in a loose fashion around her ankles, swaying and brushing the skin on her legs, raising gooseflesh. Walking…walking…climbing…climbing…_Serenity_ helped her. It liked her. It told her she had a home. But there was no home to be found there. She had a mother. And food. And soon she would have her four walls.

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Every step caused his heart to sink a little lower. In a rather ironic fashion, Mal noted warily how the leaden thud of his boots on the grated step sounded a mite bit like a death knell. Or somethin' akin to that. As he stepped fully onto the helm floor, his vision fell quickly to the front view. Nothing. 

He glanced around to examine his crew. Zoë sat somewhat slumped in Wash's chair, one hand drifting subconsciously to lay on her gracefully rounded stomach through the thin fabric of her gauzy brown shirt, the other lying near the wave vid controls. River had moved from her usual position in the co-pilot's chair to huddle underneath the control panel, her dark eyes gone large as she stared up forlornly towards the vid screen and muttered incomprehensible phrases underneath her breath, her lips moving in too rapid of a succession for the human eye to follow.

Jayne and Simon stepped in behind him, having quickly fallen into pace with Mal at Zoë's call.

"What's wrong with the crazy?" Jayne asked as he stepped to lean towards the side of the controls that she was buried under.

At that moment Kaylee appeared and smacked Jayne clean across the back of the head, grabbing Simon's hand and pressing herself into his shoulder in one smooth motion. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail at the crown of her head, while the smell of sweat and machinery rose from her coveralls, a smudge of grease swiped obscurely across her nose and above her lip, rising to her cheekbone.

Simon allowed his hand to drift absently in the direction of her neck, brushing his fingers against the nape of skin and fingering the small tendrils of hair that had escaped from the tightened elastic. Jayne glared.

Mal turned his attention back to Zoë, a small smirk crossing his face and then disappearing at her down turned mouth and the strained lines written into her forehead.

"Got a wave from a small patch over the cortex, says she's a friend of Inara's. 'Cept the word 'friend' sounded real funny."

Mal sighed, tracing his hand in a weary motion across the back of his neck. He thought he'd been rid of her nonsense. There was no person in the 'verse he wanted to be reminded of less.

"Live or vid?" he replied, stepping close and leaning past Zoë's left side to support himself on the console.

"Recorded, simple mail message. Haven't opened it yet. Soon as the data began to stream, River screamed and shoved herself up under there. Hasn't come out since."

Mal's brow furrowed over his eyes as he glanced over at the psychic, a deep ache sliding into the pit of his stomach.

"Albatross?" he questioned, his body taking a slight lean in her direction in a small attempt at comfort. At the sound of his voice, River's head snapped up, her eyes going wide and panicked.

"Leaves," she whispered, her voice lilting like an eerie breathless wind. "Wind and rocks and stones and sticks." The words began to jumble together in a syncopated rhythm as her pitch grew higher. "Never safe, never slumber, leaves and wind and stone and rocks and sticks. Too long, too late, never waited, never asked, never wanted. Wind and stones and sticks and leaves, too small to see what was never there, never accepted the warning!" Tears began to slip from her small eyes as she buried herself into her hair, incoherent mumbling taking over once again.

"Mei mei?" Simon whispered, his voice thin as he longed to reach out for his sister, but his fear, along with Kaylee's viselike grip on his forearm, kept him from venturing closer.

Mal frowned, lines and wrinkles etching their way into his forehead as he leaned back and folded two slightly shaking arms across his chest. He sighed, a discontented sound that ended with a slight growl.

"Well," he groused, his heart beginning to pound as his stomach dropped lower with each slowed beat. "Let's see it."

Zoë frowned, her lips forming a thin, passive line of resistance and acceptance. She moved her hand naught but a few inches, her fingertips brushing against the pad she had been so poised over and ready to activate.

A soft glow began to radiate as the video panel lit with the unopened message. River began to squirm and push herself backwards away from the glowing panel, her fingers wringing her hair.

A thin, reedy, and seductive voice rang through the cockpit speakers before the image on the screen ever fully materialized.

"Greetings to you, Captain Reynolds and the crew of Serenity. I hope my message has not found any of you in any less than a healthful condition." Mal stared at the small screen, his eyes widening slightly as the picture faded into view. An angel, almost, seemed to grace that screen, with a halo of dazzling red hair that fell in flawless waves down bared shoulders and an open back.

"I know that in my greeting to this message, I stated that the contents were for a Ms. Inara Serra. I'm afraid that I haven't been quite honest with you."

Mal raised an eyebrow as he leaned in closer to study that angelically porcelain face. Perfect red lips. A nose that seemed to fit on a perfect oval face, not too round, but not too narrow. And her eyes…large, violet, and…something was wrong…with her…

The rest of the crew stood behind him, silent.

"I hope you will forgive me, Captain Reynolds, but this message is more _about_ Ms. Serra than it is _for_ her." In that instant the screen fuzzed as whatever recording mechanism swiveled violently to the left. As the distorted image cleared, Mal sucked his breath in quick, throwing himself upright and away from the screen. He felt as if he'd been punched damn-near in the gut.

Inara lay before them, clearly unconscious, her hands bound tightly behind her. Her lip was swollen and cut; her high cheekbone bruised an angry green and purple. Dried blood etched a small path down the side of her nose, from a cut on her temple, joining with a flow that leaked from one nostril and down to the bottom of her soft chin. Mal growled low under his breath.

"You see, Captain, Ms. Serra had no idea what she was getting herself into." The young woman leaned forward, her face drawing closer to the screen, a wide, haunted, menacing smile spreading across her lovely face. Mal shivered, chills coursing down his spine. He stopped breathing as her eyes turned dark. Hollow. It was her eyes that were wrong…all wrong. But her next words forced his heart down to his feet in a near microsecond.

"We know you have them. We want them, Captain Reynolds. But you just do too damn good of a job of hiding from us." The woman leaned back from the screen, her voice becoming almost playful. "So, now it's time for you to come here. We're weary of chasing, Captain. So very weary." She smiled again and Mal was certain that he felt each body in that room move a step back from that wicked gaze.

"The faster you come, the less time Ms. Serra has to suffer."

Suddenly a wrenching shriek echoed through the cockpit, an awful noise that ripped through Mal's system and released a fire in his veins that hungered only for blood.

It was the sound of a cry of pain, a guttural scream that echoed distinctly like the soft soprano of Inara Serra. _His _Nara.

He heard Kaylee squeal softly behind him, her face buried in Simon's shoulder as every other crewmember remained paralyzed in fear.

_Who the hell does this chou san ba think she is?_

"You have three days Captain Reynolds. We know you're not far. And every second you waste is one less place that you will find unbruised or unblistered on Ms. Serra's body." The woman's smile dropped, her face morphing into a hollow mask of hurt and anger. Mal never thought he coulda been more scared of one person. He was wrong.

"Three days, Captain."

The viewer flashed off, leaving the cockpit drenched in a thick web of silence, outside of River's gentle sobs and occasional moaning.

Mal stared at the console he was leaning on, trying to keep the feeling in his legs from vanishing as his heart threatened to tear him apart.

Nara.

Dammit.

His mind swam, replaying backwards and forwards the agonizing sound of near panic that had been the last he'd heard of her voice. That wonderful, melodic, seductive tone that had whispered in his ears and echoed in his head and become his own personal saving grace. Tortured. Pain-streaked. Wretched.

He had to go to her. There was no other choice. She needed him, and maybe now he could finally prove to her that he wanted her for more than just some gorram trophy or shiny bauble. Or the damn good sex.

He loved her. He really, truly, honest to god loved her, and that sound of pain had cemented every hold he'd ever sought to claim on her. It killed him. It bit threw his sense and unleashed a rage like he'd never felt before in his life. How _dare_ anyone else touch what was his?

Unnoticed, his hands began to shake as his teeth clenched together, his rage consuming every feature and morphing his face into a rack of pain. Zoë grimaced, rubbing her stomach absently. She had only seen that look once…in the middle of a battlefield, many years ago. That woman had no gorram idea what she was in for.

Leaning over, Jayne ventured to reach towards Mal's shoulder, his hand hesitating in the air as one hand ran through his close cropped hair.

"Mal…" he spoke as loud as he dared, his voice trailing off with unmarked questions.

Mal leaned back from the console, his lip twitching upwards in anger, his face stony. Looking at Simon, he motioned for him to take Kaylee from the cockpit and down to her bunk.

"But –" Simon started, his voice cracking. Mal's throat was husky with anger and emotion as he replied.

"Don't worry Doc, we'll take care a your sister. She's safe with us."

Simon nodded, his eyes betraying his concern, but his mind, soul, and body staying with Kaylee, her comfort his only care.

"Jayne?" Mal turned to her mercenary, his eyebrows raising in question. Jayne almost grinned, would have grinned if not for the sobbing psychic wrapped around his leg and the surreal anger that possessed Mal's face.

"Full party?" Jayne replied, his expression hopeful. He loved full scale rescue operations. Especially complicated ones.

Mal's expression remained hard.

He spoke, his voice dense, soft, and commanding, almost threatening in his tone.

"Full party."

No one would be left alive.

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Ummm...I don't even know if I have the right to ask for these anymore, but review?? PLEASE!? 


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